


THE HUNTER AND THE HEALER

by Starlightdawn



Category: Ghost Adventures RPF
Genre: F/M, sexy and spooky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-24
Updated: 2016-02-11
Packaged: 2018-05-03 05:06:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 42,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5277776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starlightdawn/pseuds/Starlightdawn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Hunter learns some new stuff, whilst the Healer is hiding something...will it all end in tears?</p><p>They become closer, and Zak wonders where this is leading...</p><p>Zak has possession issues and needs the help of a Shaman to fix things, which comes with its own set of problems</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

PART ONE  
Chaper One - BEGINNING  
Two days ago I had never heard of the man; I hardly ever watch TV, and the concept of a muscle bound, pointy haired, up himself Ghost Hunter only made me feel a contemptuous kind of pity. People just cashing in on the need for ‘paranormal activities’ investigations left me with a bad taste in my mouth, and a kind of weariness of the whole ‘Ghost/Demon’ scenario splashed across the TV and internet – even children these days were given clothes decorated with skulls and monsters; the whole thing was sick.  
But, when I was asked to help this nut job who had apparently been accosted by a demon, and who was displaying the symptoms of ‘possession’, I knew I had to do what I could. I always have to. It’s my job; or more truthfully, it’s my purpose. So I hauled together my bag of stuff, the usual things the punters like to see; crucifix, herbs, battered old book, phials of water and oil; shoved them all in my respectable black bag, and headed off to the address in LA where I was expected.  
Immediately I entered the large apartment, I knew there was something not quite right about it. Sensing the atmosphere was kind of like entering a building where mould has grown up the wall – giving me the same reactions as did that nasty pervasive smell of damp.  
I introduced myself, as always, without providing any details of my work.  
“Macey. You called me” and shook hands with a guy called Nick, who seemed wired and worried in equal proportions – the skinny ones are often like that. But despite the intermittent clenching of his jaw, and the furtive looks over his shoulder, he explained clearly why he had called me; - all because of the stuff happening to his friend.  
Within the excess of descriptions about spirit boxes and ultra violet light, I began to piece together what had taken place. Not good, and it seemed to have had a ripple effect on all the five guys involved. After filming this particular ‘Lockdown’, one of the guys, (Aaron?) had disappeared from the scene altogether. The two technical bods had gone back to Silicon Valley, an admission of defeat if ever there was one. Nick remained here, attempting to bring normality to daily life, despite Zak’s increasingly odd behaviour. As every day passed the situation had worsened, until, in desperation, he had called me. Not that I advertise my services at all. I just happened to have helped his wife, maybe six weeks ago when I was out walking, her daughter had an accident which could have been really serious, but as I know how to stop bleeding, and also how to calm down frantic mums and panicking children, disaster was averted. Afterwards, the little girl wanted a photo of me and her doggie, and that photo was taken and sent from my cell phone. Nick just happened to mention to his wife that he was really worried, she passed on my number, Nick called me, and that made up the circle of events. Recommendations for my help are always passed on through other people; it provides a sort of cosmic screening process leaving me free time to pursue my own interests.  
Nick had run out of words for the time being, so I took stock of the surroundings. We were sitting facing each other in a large, modern lounge, very stylish, but marred by the empty coffee cups on the low glass table, and the clutter of an untidy blanket on the cushions of the curved red leather sofa. As I looked across the room, a slight movement caught my eye. I saw a smallish cream and grey dog, inching forward towards me, keeping low and taking quick shy glances, before putting it’s nose down on its paws and whining. Nick moved over to the dog, gently pulling on its ears, and saying the name “Gracie” over and over. I stood and took two steps around the table, to kneel in front of the man and dog, both their energy levels seemed depleted, and both, I sensed, were either on the verge of, or past the point of misery. I held the dog, and felt her fluffy body shaking; a feeling of complete non comprehension surrounded her, as though she was totally lost, hungry and alone. I looked past her trembling ears, into Nick’s sad brown eyes, and thought for a moment I would hug both of them. But before I could do that, there was the click of the handle from the door across the room, and the man who I guessed must have been the source of all this anguish, slowly shuffled in.

But then, perhaps I am getting ahead of myself. I should tell you I have had a gift for physical healing all my life; although it took me a while to find out. (Psychic healing came later.) Re-animating dead mice at primary school, and making frogs twitch on the dissecting table were cool tricks, but most of the kids around me gave me a wide berth, as it was a commonly held belief that I could curse people as well as heal them, truly bollocks but that’s kids for you. To me my skill was like being an artist; I had a style, and that was to make people better, take away their pain, (which was often mixed with all the dark emotions like fear anger and regret, ) and help them to move on.  
That proved to be a hard path to walk, but I did it, learning more about myself, and my heritage in the process. I’ve seen many strange events and had unaccountable experiences, spending years learning my craft, connecting with the inner knowledge I had inherited, and on that day, in that somewhat cold and unwelcoming lounge, I was confident that I could take on anything that came along. But it did feel slightly inappropriate to be sitting in this beat up dude’s fancy living room, contemplating running off with his dog, leaving him and his jittery friend to look out for themselves. But, as I continue to say, I can’t.  
So this guy is at least six feet tall. He must have done lots of gym work, as his chest and arm muscles were impressive to say the least, however he seemed a little stooped over, walking carefully, as if each step had the potential to jar his body and send pain through his bones. He wore a rumpled black tee shirt and baggy black trousers, shoeless, and to my sensitive nose, had the distinct odour of a restless night. He seemed not to notice me as he focussed on the dog, who whined pitifully, then slunk down to hide around the side of the furniture.  
Only then did I stand up, slowly, as it looked like he may be easily spooked. Nick made the introductions, but the guy called Zak didn’t offer to shake hands. As we stood awkwardly, I glanced at his face, quickly aware of the dark glasses shielding his eyes, unshaven chin and the hair, thick and dark, hanging low over his eyes. His skin was pale, and he didn’t acknowledge me; all in all he was a mess. I moved away, and sat back on the sofa, hoping my new ‘client’ would do the same, but he didn’t. Turning away he seemed to shuffle across the room and exited through a different door. I looked back to Nick, who was still standing, a puzzled look on his face. I put out my hand and motioned him to sit. The dog crept forward, and sat on my feet, quivering and sniffing, until I put my hands into her long neck fur, and she relaxed.  
“So Nick” I kept my voice soft and even, “do you have footage I could watch of the night it happened? Perhaps if I go through it I might get a clue of what started it.”  
I didn’t really know what I was dealing with, up against or whatever. I already knew that this group of guys looked for haunted places; tried to capture the events of a whole night on film, and then had it broadcast on a major TV network. Presumably for money, but there must have been some kicks for them involved in the process. Nick had told me already that on the night in question the leader of the pack had started out fine, seemingly not affected at all by the whispers, growls and other paranormal events, but it became obvious to the crew that, by the next day, he was different. He started out being rude and bullying, having a row with the main tech guy, Billy, telling him his equipment was faulty, and he sucked as a technician. Then he went for Aaron, his friend and fellow ghost stalker, really being nasty and aggressive. Nick had been upset when the situation degenerated into a scuffle, before he pulled the two of them apart. Aaron had packed and left within the hour, Nick didn’t think he would be back in a long while. As the tall lean guy recounted this he pushed his hand back through his hair, rubbing first his eyes then his chin, in increasingly desperate gestures. “Calm down dude”, I placed my hands up over his shoulders, giving him a small burst of my energy. I was sitting opposite him, keeping eye contact, and matching my breathing to his. “Nick, this is time for you to relax…I’m going to just talk about the way to relax…you can breathe real easy…in ….out…..in slowly feeling the calm enter your body…that’s right….” I carried on with a mini relaxation, nothing difficult, a bog standard hypnosis introduction. A few minutes later, after ensuring he would be calmer and more relaxed, I brought him back to the everyday world. He seemed to find it easier to continue telling me about Zak’s recent behaviour.  
It was odd, no mistake. After falling out with the others, Zak had retreated to his room, and just hibernated. He didn’t seem to want to have anything to do with his dog, not eating, drinking, watching TV or having any of his normal interests. If Nick tried to enter, a torrent of abuse would be shouted at him. But, and here Nick’s voice dropped to almost a whisper as he confided that he had heard two voices in the room. He had checked in late at night, to make sure Gracie was fed and given a comfort break, and standing outside the bedroom, he had heard what sounded like a female.  
“What did she sound like?” I was all curious now.  
“Like a woman wheedling for a new pair of shoes, or trying to get her own way…” Nick suddenly glanced up at me, with a guilty look on his face – he must have thought that what he had just said would come across as a bit sexist. I stared back at him, impartial and unbothered.  
“Carry on Nick, what was she saying?”  
“I don’t really know – I could hear her voice but it was like she wasn’t speaking a language I could understand”  
“A foreign language then?” I wondered if this would be useful. “What was Zak doing whilst this woman was there? Did he seem friendly, angry, frightened….?”  
Nick moved his head from side to side, loosening the tension in his neck muscles. “No, it was like a conversation, soft, intimate, but with an edge of some kind of threat. Honestly, I had no idea what they were on about, but it was not something I wanted to hear. The woman had an edge to her voice, she sounded very demonic at times.”  
I leaned forward, putting the palm of my hand against Nicks forearm –  
“Let’s not get carried away with demons….there could be other explanations. Is it likely that Zak has a girlfriend that you don’t know about? What type of women does he usually date?”  
Nick pursed his lips uncomfortably, and after a long in breath, he spoke.  
“Zak seems to like young women. With the show he has loads of fans, but it’s usually the small, long haired pretty ‘younger’ ones he goes for” He gave to dogs ears sign around the word younger. I made a mental note of my thoughts, and the way Nick had looked before he spoke.  
“So does whoever Zak is with sound like his girlfriend?”  
Nick looked into my eyes, his expression bleak. “No. It sounds like some harpy playing mind games. Zak never goes for the witchy type, long clothes and wands and all that malarkey. I think he gets enough spooky stuff in his job, without some wannabe witch queen messing with his head.”  
I leaned back on the sofa, smoothing down the hem of my grey skirt over my knees, and reached a tissue from my sensible black bag. I didn’t want Nick to see me smirk at his description of a witch.  
I leaned forward again, ready to ask about the tapes from that night, when the kitchen door opened, and Zak returned. He was holding a can of Red Bull in one hand and a chocolate biscuit in the other. I stood swiftly, so he knew I was showing some respect; despite his weird behaviour it was still his home. But he seemed not to notice as he slumped down on the already squashed cushions, putting both the can and the biscuit on the glass top table.  
“Hey. Wassup” his voice was a slow drawl, a deep voice, but not vibrant, like he was asking, but couldn’t care less what the answer would be.  
“You two plotting, hey Nicky boy….you talking to the nice lady?”…..his body rocked slightly as he said this, and his chin was lifted slightly, his head tilted in Nick’s direction. “What are you two planning on then….you cheating on wifey, Nicky boy…” He suddenly gave that up and took a bite from the biscuit. Crumbs fell on the carpet, causing Gracie, who had crept forward when he entered the room, to whine quietly. Zak turned in the direction of the dog’s whine, and without any warning, hurled the biscuit at the dog. “Here, have the fucking thing, dopey mutt……..give me some peace…”

 

CHAPTER 2 - DECISION  
Nick proved true to his word and provided the full, uncut version of the Ghost Adventures Crew’s night in the Luxor Hotel. I didn’t realise how much footage I would have to watch, room after room of green light, heavy shadows and the crew in various stages of boredom, excitement and terror. I could grudgingly admit how this sort of thing had its appeal…shouting into the darkness using a spirit box with no idea of what sounds or voices may come echoing back. Apart from the insight of how the boys got their kicks, I had an opportunity to study them as individuals and how they acted together on camera. They had, with the possible exception of Billy, been together a few years on the program and all seemed to be firm friends outside of the demands of the channel.  
Aaron was the clown, pulling goofy faces and rolling his eyes whenever he got the opportunity, but on the occasions he was left alone with just a camera and a recorder, a more earnest side to his character emerged, and the caring side of his nature came forward. Then there was Nick; serious and measured in his approach to things, calm and quiet when things became tense, a perfect foil for the excitable and passionate energy of Zak. Zak, who was quite the enigma, by outward appearances he was earnest and totally committed to his Ghost Adventures, making the programme a hit using a pre-set format of events, contrasted against the random spooky happenings. Zak on film was giddy, sad, tough, sweet, empathic and cheeky, reacting in his own totally spontaneous way to what came up. He was someone I could help out, if only to find out what, if anything, his real self was like. That coupled with the fact that, on camera at least, he was extremely attractive. I put that thought aside, and continued with my review of the episode.  
I had watched what felt like hours of footage, pausing only to feed my cat, Angelique, (more about her later) and grab a sandwich for myself. Nothing was remotely pointing to any demon activity, any possessions or demonic oppressions. A few footsteps and a shadow manifesting in front of a fanciful picture of a woman dressed Cleopatra style were the only things of any real interest. I couldn’t find anything to link Zak to the stuff which was happening to him now. I had played and replayed all the footage of Zak, and he seemed fine throughout the whole thing, hi-fiving the others, and showing his strong, white, but slightly crooked teeth, in a broad grin, as they emerged from the hotel. With only a few minutes of film left, the guys were sitting around discussing what had happened in the lockdown, and I saw Aaron pick up an old pottery bottle, shake it slightly, and pass it along the table to Zak. The dark haired man was speaking into the camera, and waving his hand to emphasis some point. At that moment his hand brushed the bottle and it tipped over, just as he turned to see what he had connected with. I stared at the footage, and hit rewind in with a prickle of excitement.  
Yes, after seeing the film over and over, I knew I had caught a glimpse of something, some translucent silvery trail of mist, leaving the bottle, only to look as if Zak had inhaled it. The film cut off approximately 5 seconds after this, so I didn’t see any reaction from Zak, just a slightly puzzled look on his face before the film came to an end.  
My head buzzed with questions, and I had to reach Nick to find some answers. His quiet voice sounded only a little on edge as I identified myself. It was twenty four hours since I had last seen him, witnessing Zak’s nasty attitude to the dog, and leaving with the assurance that I would try to help.  
“How’s Bagans?” I asked a little abruptly; I wasn’t about to seem soft, I wanted to know if things were worsening.  
“I think he’s getting more and more distant, no energy, no nothing” came the terse reply  
I quickly shifted onto the purpose of my call, explaining the point on the film where Zak had seemed to knock over the pottery vase, and that the silver trail that it held had entered him. Nick was totally unaware of this, but he did remember that Aaron had taken the pot, as the manager of the hotel didn’t want any of the old stuff around. He wanted to replace it with new plastic, painted over to appear old. People are crazy.  
Aaron it turned out, had a real interest in the Egyptian stuff, and kept quite a few of the findings he had made from his travels. Nick offered to contact Aaron, to ask him to let us look at this mysterious pottery vase, but telling me that there was nothing particularly memorable about it. I wanted to look at it for myself, and to see how Zak reacted to it, this might just be the key to unlocking him from the lethargy and unfamiliar behaviour he was experiencing. Nick promised that he would contact me real soon, and I ended the call. 

It was turning dusk, and my desert home would soon need light, but I mused in the chair, mobile in my hand, pondering what, if anything, had been in the jar, possibly to transfer itself into Zak. Nick didn’t sound very encouraging on the phone, and I wanted to get this sorted. Angelique was back, curling around on my lap, purring with that odd snuffly sound she made due to her deformed mouth. Her upper palate didn’t quite meet, where a cat would normally have a sweet curve of their upper gum up to the nose, Angelique’s was slightly open. That, together with the bottom of her mouth not closing properly, led to her cute pink tongue peeking out, and the snuffle sound she made as she purred.  
She had been born into a litter of feral cats, although the shelter was insistent that all her siblings were completely wild, Angel was very tame. She was also born with the cat equivalent of spina bifida, which meant that her legs were short and she had a very wobbly gait. When she was small, I didn’t expect she would make it, but gradually she persevered, and her strength and ability grew, almost to the point that she could do everything she needed to do to survive. But, even though she couldn’t climb trees or catch insects, she was more, way more, than just a crippled kitty. She was an earth angel. Angelique did healing like most people did breathing; she was rock steady in the face of dogs, children, drunks and even tigers. I had taken her on the New York subway and out into the desert, and she remained always calm, un-phased by her surroundings, and completely trusting in me to protect her if necessary. She knew the value of mindfulness and could calm babies, children, and adults by giving herself over and just purring calmly. Looking into her eyes was like seeing love; she was incredible, and I can’t describe what an awesome experience it is to be the carer for this unearthly personality, which currently inhabits a cat suit.  
So, I petted her gently whilst pondering the situation. I didn’t want to be in any deeper than I had to, reasoning that messing with spirits was a mugs game, and this guy Zak had got only what he deserved. I speculated that whatever had attached to him would eventually move on, and hopefully leave him wiser than to do it again. On the other hand, he was an unusual guy, and I couldn’t help myself but feel an interest both in him, and what was going on. Also, I tossed into the thought mix, Nick seemed to be a loyal friend, and Gracie was an upset animal; neither of them deserved to be caught up in whatever shit Zak Bagans had stirred up. I stopped my musing, if it was the stuff in the old vase that got into him, it was purely coincidental – wrong place wrong time- how hard could it be to sort that out?  
I thought the best course of action was to get a hold on the vase to get more information, and then quiz Zak to get to the bottom of what really was happening, without being put off by any biscuit throwing incidents.

CHAPTER THREE – SHE ONLY COMES OUT AT NIGHT

The rooms seemed to become smaller with every passing day, in fact the whole house was shrinking around him. He didn’t want to be in the dungeon, it was dark and felt so cold, even if he lit up the gas jets to illuminate the skulls and other spooky stuff which usually fascinated and entertained him. He didn’t want to be outside, the running water somehow made him feel uncomfortable, and the sunlight was way too bright, causing him to slouch back inside and hide in the shadows of the large, but seemingly shrinking lounge. Even Gracie, his most loved companion, was not helping; she was evidently scared of him. It made him feel stupidly petulant and sorry for himself that the dog was not supportive. Nick was getting on his nerves – pushing food at him, and suggesting they hit the gym, the movies, the theme park – all sorts of crap he just couldn’t stomach. Literally. His stomach felt knotted and uncomfortable – even his arms and legs ached in sympathy. In the evening, when things got worse, his only respite seemed to be sitting in a large bath of steaming water, with as much bubble juice as he could find, soaping and sponging his skin, then letting his body float in the haze of steam and scent, before he picked up the razor. The fact that after he shaved his face, he also felt compelled to shave his legs and all the hair from his body was something he ignored, with a dogged determination.

He climbed slowly from the tub, and wrapped the towel over his slick wet torso, approaching the mirror with dread lurking in his belly. It was that time again, the oncoming night time, when she came in real close, pulling him into a whole different way of being, twisting his psyche and terrifying him witless. Rubbing away the steam he examined the face in the mirror. His breath huffed slightly as he breathed out. It was still Zak, staring back at himself. He could afford another look. His face was pale in the spot-lit bathroom, straight black eyebrows and thick black eyelashes framing his large blue hazel eyes. But, as he peered closely, without the benefit of his lenses or glasses, he saw not blue eyes, but deep emerald green, glimmering back, slightly fogged by the dewy mirror. His knees trembled, but he forced himself to keep staring at his reflection. The green glowing eyes were really shining from his waxy face, but then, unexpectedly, he noticed his hair, usually short straight and spiky, was curling in a dense dark and sexy tangle down past his shoulders.  
“Oh Jesus Christ, what is happening?”  
His voice was a hoarse croak; he couldn’t bear to look any more, so before his legs shook again, he perched on the stool at the side of the bath, where the scented water was still gurgling down the plughole. The gurgles had a meaning, if he listened closely, just like what happened when you listened to an EVP. He settled to listen, and the voice in the gurgling became clearer. A deep throaty voice, so compelling, just so entrancing, he liked the voice, he wanted to do as she asked, he wanted to please her, let her use up what she needed of him, make him feel his body was hers….hold and be held……suck and be sucked…..fuck and be………

CHAPTER FOUR - VISITATION

Aaron was only too happy to hand over the jar when Nick told him what I had seen on the tape. He said he thought it was a funeral urn, and, as such, should have been left alone in the grave of whoever’s body it was holding. Some of the Egyptian funeral jars held internal organs, removed for mummification. Others held small objects, mementoes of life to be placed close to the dead, as they passed over to the other side, as a reminder of the life they had lost, and to help them in building another life when reincarnated, presumably in the future. As Aaron didn’t want to come back to LA so soon, memories of Zak’s temper tantrum still loomed large in his memory, he arranged to FedEx the jar over to Nick.  
I had spent some time researching the Luxor Hotel – starting with the notes made by Zak, almost indecipherable, written in spiky black ink. I pieced together a few facts about Colonel Reinhardt Mussler, who in 1911 had travelled from his native Germany to Egypt, as was fashionable then, and done a small dig outside the great and grand city of Luxor. He spent over three years there, but eventually returned home and married an English lady. They had two sons who on the death of their parents, just before the outbreak of war, emigrated to the States. The Luxor was an homage to their father, and, presumably, the few original artefacts were the very ones gathered by Herr Mussler, eventually to be brought over the ocean as quirky family heirlooms.  
I doubted that the young men who long ago started out in the hotel business had any idea what they might be bringing along with them from the murky depths of an Egyptian Tomb. The notes Zak made were all background, culled from the hotel literature freely available. Predictably somewhat darker, Zak’s interest in the hotel arose from a series of brutal murders which took place in the late 1950’s long after the Mussler brothers had sold up and moved on.

As soon as FedEx delivered his parcel, Nick had done as I asked and scanned the jar in a 360 degree sweep, the file of which he E-mailed to me, the scanner making it much easier to see the hieroglyphs carved into the surface of the ancient hard baked clay. Although my knowledge did not cover ancient Egyptian history to any great extent, there is one area in which I do have specialist knowledge, relevant to any Shamanic/Pagan healer still drumming in the twenty first century. As soon as I found the symbol of the God Osiris, the crook, carved in intricate detail at the top of the jar I knew references to Isis, his Queen, would not be far away. Isis and Osiris were just about as royal and powerful as any entities that were around back in the day. Honoured for her great power and influence, Isis became known as “the Queen of Heaven.” After joining together the pieces of her dismembered husband, and then conceiving a child by him, her healing magic far outweighs that of anyone who lived before or since. I took a breath, wondering where all this was leading. 

It was quite reasonable for the jar to have the symbol of a God as a marking – after all the whole of Egypt had been in the thrall of an absolute plethora of powerful and well known entities for hundreds of years. I had never invoked or used their energy as my tradition was mostly from my native Inuit ancestry. As if to make sure I was bound to those traditions, I have inherited the strange silver disc coloured eyes, with a weird deep blue triangular mark in the iris of my left eye. Hence my grandfather called me “Spirit Seeing Eyes” telling me this was exactly the same eye colour and marking his own great grandmother had. I do have some of the inherited skills and talents passed down from my ancestors, and some skills which are all my own.  
So I carried on examining the enlarged picture, crystal clear on my screen, of the jar. Around 2.00 am I surfed the net, and quickly found the most prominent university to offer Egyptology as a subject for study. Following the link to the student website, the on line chat room yielded several friendly offers of translation. I sent up a sample, which I already had a gist of the content, and was rewarded to find that the student I had found was as good as he said he was. We struck a deal, $1000 if he could translate the entire work before morning.  
I drifted off to sleep, Angel purring on my pillow, with a shivery feeling of anticipation. Sometime just after 3.00am, I was woken by a tug on my subconscious – Grandfather, who rarely speaks to me these days, had called me in a dream, and almost pushed me outside to see what it was that necessitated waking me up. The desert air was freezing cold, so I put on my furry slippers and took a worn woollen blanket to drape around my shoulders. It was actually much colder than I expected, the house lights were off, and the security lights all masked from 3 yards outside the house perimeter, so I could see millions of stars blazing at me from the massive sky.  
A small movement by my feet revealed the cat, shivering slightly, clearly not happy that I was alone out under the stars. I picked her up and snuggled her into the blanket, where she laid strangely alert and silent. The Dog Star, Sirius, was floating in the east, so bright I was amazed by the clear white purity of the light. Without any warning, I noticed that the clear white light was forming into a shape, suspended in the sky, much closer to me than the stars, in fact only a few feet away from where I was standing. My heart raced and I pulled Angelique to me, noticing her shaking again.  
Glowing brighter, the light seemed to both approach closer, and become more solid, still dazzlingly bright, it held a pale blue image inside it, I made out an outline, surrounded now with a crystalline fire. The air seemed to sizzle with the electrical energy of the light, and I could smell an incredible perfume, something like oud and jasmine, heady and exotic, floating down to me. The shape was becoming clearer, and I was trembling in a funk of adrenaline and fear. My knees felt the gravelly softness of the cold sand, where I could see the blaze of light reflected from above me.  
My heart almost stopped when I saw a shadow fall; something was standing between the light and my kneeling body. I wanted to look up, but had a very strong instinct to keep my head down. So I knelt there whilst the light waned, and the fizzing sound quieted. When the message came to me, it was simple but powerful  
“I want her back”  
I waited, hoping for more information, holding my breath in the deep quiet of the desert.  
“Ysatisia is a child of my blood. Bring her to me. Do not fail or you will both be lost.”  
I still didn’t know if the communication had been out loud or in my head. I couldn’t say how it sounded, but there was no mistaking what this entity wanted.  
Then, incredibly, something dropped onto the sand, just next to my knees. The white light glowed like a beacon; I could hear a buzzing and fizzing as if I was standing close to a loose power cable, but it quickly faded. I kept well down until I was sure there was nothing remaining, and the starlight was at its normal intensity. A nervous thrill of apprehension ran down my spine. I had a strong inclination that I needed to act quickly; visitations like this were not to be taken lightly. I reached out to the sand to retrieve what had been gifted to me – two small identical discs, each threaded on finely plaited leather, rested in my hand. Were they some sort of protection, or even rewards for what I was expected to do. The meaning wasn’t clear to me then.  
As for the visitor from Sirius, well, that was clear - it could be none other than the Lady Isis herself.  
I rushed back into my hacienda, gently settling the cat in the blanket, and flicking open my laptop. The translation of the hieroglyphs on the funeral jar was flashing in my mail. I scanned quickly, forcing myself to swallow the apprehension I felt as I came to the name of the jar’s intended recipient. Ysatisia, one of Isis’ granddaughters, described as a princess of Egypt, sorceress, witch and great beauty. She, I concluded, was who I was up against, the one possessing Zak. How in the name of the Goddess would I get her out, and back to her life in the past?  
I would have to get things moving. I felt quite apprehensive when I thought that the Goddess Isis was personally involved. Even though she had threatened me and Zak presumably, I was sure that she was giving me time, before she stepped in pull Ysatisia out of Zak, incurring whatever damage to him that involved. That must imply that she believed in my ability to make it happen safely, and her granddaughter would be returned. Presumably Isis had no worries over the fact that Ysatisia was already dead. As the morning sunlight flooded through the window, I shook myself and phoned Nick, asking him to bring Zak over, prepared for a 24 hour stay, and not to forget the jar.

CHAPTER FIVE – COSMIC COMMECTIONS  
The 4x4 rolled to a halt at the gate of Macey’s hacienda, a large low building set way into the desert outback of LA. Nick had slipped out from the driver’s seat, collected the small bag Zak had with him, together with a battered old camera case, which he handled very carefully. He slid open the door before Zak had time to complain yet again that he was in no way ready to face this, well… whatever ‘this’ was. Nick awkwardly pulled him up for a quick man hug, muttering “Good Luck dude” before pushing him gently in the direction of the path up to the front door. Before the tall man reached it, Nick saw the door open and he recognised Macey, slim and willowy, now dressed in yoga pants and a baggy top. A grim smile played over his lips as he returned the wave, saying to himself “Bye Zak, get better old buddy...” before hoisting himself back behind the wheel and driving off in the direction of the City of Angels.  
The house was pleasantly cool after the desert heat, and Macey welcomed him inside, taking both the small bag, and the camera case, which was the makeshift home for the Coptic jar. After removing his hat and glasses, shoes and socks, Zak was led down a long hallway. The room he entered was at the back of the building facing out onto the desert; a huge expanse of cold floor tiles of cream marble which were swept clean of any dust and sand, and linen drapes shading the tall windows which made up two of the four walls. It was nearing mid-morning, the heat outside rising steadily, but coolness in the room provided by a very quiet and very efficient air con system. The only sign of any furniture in the space was a small cloth covered table, offset toward one wall, next to what appeared to be a futon, on a large rug in the centre of the tiled floor. Zak felt woozy, the lack of food and the bumpy journey not helping his already fragile state. Macey helped him settle on the large futon like mat in the centre of the room.

Zak’s POV  
I had found out over the past weeks, I was better in the daylight, whatever ‘thing’ I had picked up, it seemed to go quiet during the day, leaving me alone to deal with a sick headache and lack of energy.  
As we entered the huge empty room Macey spoke to me, but I didn’t quite hear, my blood was buzzing in my ears and I was afraid my legs would crumple. Before it reached a critical point, she had me, surprising strength in that lean body, putting my arm over her shoulders and supporting me as I made the effort to reach the centre of the room. I let myself sink down onto the cloth, as I was too weak to stand any longer.  
Whatever this was, whatever she was going to do to me, it had better work. The last two weeks had been hell; never feeling well, night terrors, hallucinations and sheer despair being high on the list of symptoms. These were bad enough, but there was also the weird presence, cackling to me in the darkness, showing as a pair of emerald green eyes, and making me do the most weird and unwelcome acts; shaving my body was not a pleasure, nicks from the razor and the constant itching were bad, but the urge to have sex, crazy hurtful sex, was downright wicked. As the craving moved to uncontrollable, masturbation became the only option, and even that was rushed frenzied and without any satisfaction. The thought of making out with a woman did nothing for me. Even more worrying, the thought of doing it with a man was becoming something which occupied my thoughts more and more. It would have been only a matter of time before I jumped Nick, assuming in my weakened state I could hold onto him. I knew when Nick asked me to see this woman who lived out in the desert and could do amazing healing stuff, that my sanity was about to crumble. So I had no choice but to follow instructions.  
I was gently but firmly laid with my head on the centre of the futon, my bare feet pointing outwards. She knelt and looked at me, curiously, right in the eyes, and I could see for the first time how strange her eyes were. Silver orbs, glowing gently in the subdued lighting; the left eye with a dark blue mark not mirrored in the right. I knew my own eyes were unusual, but hers were positively unreal. Her voice was dark and smooth, slightly accented, the origins of its lilting cadences unknown to me.  
“Zak, I know what I am planning on doing will seem a little strange, but I need to understand how to get this ‘thing’ away from you. I don’t think it’s a possession as in ‘demon’ but there’s a ‘someone’ involved here not from this realm.”  
Here I sighed, the worst fear of mine being a demonic possession. I’d seen and experienced one or two and they were nasty. Something like that could scar you for life, and there would be no going back to Ghost Adventures, if indeed I still had what it took. Lying on the futon, with Macey’s voice low and hypnotic drifting in and out of my awareness, I seriously doubted that I would have the balls to ever again walk into a lockdown.  
I had spent so much time in my altered state I had not realised that Macey was a very unusual woman, tall and powerful, gentle but no nonsense, and very good looking, despite the weirdness of her eyes. I didn’t realise how much she cloaked herself from the curiosity of the everyday world, but I was about to find out.  
She was circling me, a sage smudge in her right hand, and with an eagle feather held in her other hand, coaxing the sweet smelling smoke over my prone body. When she reached my face, she told me to breathe in and hold my breath, wary the smoke would upset my lungs. (How did she know?) I rolled over on my side so she could repeat the process, from the crown of my head to my feet enveloped in the sweet pungent smoke. I drifted slightly, hearing drumming as if from a distance, and sensing her moving around in a circle, words of power and protection spoken in a low confident voice. I must have dozed slightly, as I awoke to find her kneeling over me, her hands hovering over my body, moving in long sweeping strokes; every so often she would lean in closer, and I knew she was testing the air around me, smelling for a scent, the way a dog scents for a trail. That seemed to continue, and I began to feel soothed and much more comfortable. Her scent was fresh, like pine and flowers, water, salt and earth, together with something sweet and mysterious. I liked the way she smelled, and I breathed in a half stupor, forgetting everything but how good she made me feel. It was only when she actually touched me I came back to full awareness. Where her hands touched my body, lightly but intentionally, I could feel a transfer of energy, not harsh, but full of power and I felt a tingle run up my spine, intensifying each time her hands left and returned for contact. I didn’t usually like to be touched by anyone unless it was either someone I knew well, or some girl I was trying to lure into bed. This was totally different, and I opened myself up completely to her, at last feeling safe and protected, after what seemed like a lifetime of dread.  
Eventually the touching stopped, and I was aware of her lying down on the futon, the crown of my head lightly touched by the top of hers. I couldn’t see her or feel any of her, other than the gentle connection between our skulls. When she at last spoke, I wasn’t sure if I was hearing her speak out loud or somewhere in my subconscious mind. I felt like I was like dreaming, but dreaming my past like a film, re living the emotions of times long gone, stuff which I had thought deeply hidden. Happiness, sadness, people, experiences all flowed out of my consciousness, but I could sense this woman standing with me, understanding and supporting throughout. It seemed to be time had lost meaning, but eventually the process came to a halt, and I felt my face wet with my own tears, which had fallen unknowingly into my ears and soaked the neck of my tee shirt.  
After a few minutes, I had collected myself sufficiently to do the next part of the journey. As I went down the soft dark path into her consciousness, none of it seemed the least bit unusual; I entered willingly, trusting Macey completely. She showed me incredible sights and situations, meshed together with long dark nights, stars, and I was constantly hearing drums pounding like the beat of my own heart. There was incredible sadness, and I felt the loss of not only a child, but of sickness and near death. Pain was overwhelming, but the movement back to the light, and healing pushed these intolerable feelings away into the darkness. I came back for the second time, my eyes flooded with tears. I had never felt so many emotions so vividly in all my life.

“Zack. You and I are now joined on a cosmic level for as long as it takes to get this woman to leave you alone”  
I was startled – this was the first mention of a woman I had heard from Macey, but it did make sense- long hair and green eyes, my uncomfortable feelings in my own body, and all the other weirdness.  
“What woman?” I really needed an explanation, plus I was somewhat anxious as to how this woman was to be forced out. I didn’t feel her presence at that time, but I knew it would only be a matter of the waning of the daylight before she returned, grumbling and pacing like a caged tiger into my consciousness. The thought struck me that this ‘woman’ I was carrying in me, would very likely not accept Macey messing with her head, and things could turn ugly. Anxiety clawed inside me, despite Macey’s presence. She explained quickly and without drama, how Ysatisia had got me, and also how Isis had appeared and demanded that Ysatisia be returned.  
“Whoa…whoa..whoa..fucking whoa”  
Despite Macey’s low and confident, no nonsense explanation, I struggled to take it on board. I had done paranormal research for years, and I thought that I knew most of the scenarios of haunting, occult and afterlife manifestations, but I couldn’t take this in. I was possessed by the spirit of a woman from ancient Egypt, who was using my body, for what I couldn’t think, but I didn’t enjoy the feeling, it was ripping my life apart. But how in the name of all fuck was Macey going to get her to leave? I could only curl my knees up to my chest, sit on the floor, and listen to my panicky breathing, as the shadows from the drapes lengthened around the room.

CHAPTER SIX - STOLEN SPIRIT  
Macey’s POV  
Zak had curled up and was sleeping fitfully on the futon, Angelique looking tiny at the side of Zaks’ broad shoulders, as she calmly looked on. I was still no nearer to figuring out how to get Ysatisia away from Zak. My only potential plan was that somehow, the jar she had been in when Zak inadvertently freed her was the best vehicle to use to capture her back. But how would any entity, living or dead, be lured back into a prison which had held it captive for the best part of three thousand years?  
The only way was to contact her and find out what she wanted. I counted off the options in my head; if she wanted to continue holding Zak’s body in thrall, she would either have to reconcile herself to being a man for the rest of his human life, or to somehow emasculate Zak. I knew she had experimented with the shaving and the sexual trouble she had stirred up in him, but I failed to see how any red blooded or even bloodless, female would want to actually be Zak. Have Zak, yes; in the bedroom his tall lean body and wide shoulders would be a paradise garden, and despite it being unknowingly supressed, there was a smouldering sexuality in the deep blue eyes and sensuous lips. I mentally shook myself, I hadn’t realised how he was affecting me, and I determined to cut off lustful feelings of any nature before they took hold in me.  
The lady Isis had told me to return the child of her blood. Ysatisia being no doubt a powerful ‘child’ in her own right. I knew I was running out of ideas, so I mentally prepared myself to join with Zak to communicate with this creature. I refilled my water bottle, and went back into my den, unnerved by what I needed to do to get this job over.

When I returned Zak was sitting up, staring straight ahead. Angel was nowhere to be seen, as I lowered myself, cross legged, in front of him.  
“Zak?”  
I needed to know where he was at, if it was indeed Zak or the woman in the ascendancy. I didn’t have to wait long, as Zak slowly straightened his legs, and moved his arms over his head to stretch. I had lit candles, closely protected by their holders, around the circle, and there was a soft comfortable light shining on us both. As Zak let his arms fall, his head turned to me and he hissed softly. I could see his eyes were green and reflected the small yellow flames of the candles with a very unsettling effect.  
“What do you want?” a low voice, silky and slightly horse, came out of Zak.  
I hesitated before replying, “Lady Ysatisia, I am honoured to be in your presence”  
Zak smiled a wide stretch of white teeth, but lacking any warmth or empathy.  
“What do you want?” The voice Ysatisia produced this time held an edge of impatience. I saw Zak’s hands were curled into fists, the black crucifix tattoo on his index finger darkly noticeable as the skin stretched taut.  
My senses clamoured loudly that this was not someone to mess with. I would have to hope that she was reasonable. “I want you to leave this man alone.” My voice was clear and steady, no threat or even a rise in pitch betrayed how much I was stressed.  
“Why?” came as a low rumble; she sounded like she was toying with me, a thin veil of patience overlying her contained energy. “He’s not yours…” her smile was slightly mocking and even more unsettling than the troubling throb in her voice.  
I breathed deeply, and tried to keep the shaking I felt to a minimum, I said “You have no right to take him…..” before I could say any more, the creature in front of me lunged across, and a powerful hand grabbed my throat. I could see Zak’s face only inches form my own, but his own high cheekbones were overlaid by the features of the lady Ysatisia. She was a stunning looking creature, glowing green eyes, arched black eyebrows, and beautiful white teeth, now bared in a snarl. I tried to move, but the hand tightened; Zak’s long fingers digging painfully into my windpipe.  
Without any visible signs of effort, she pushed me away, and I could have sworn she was sulking, her head turned away, and her mouth downturned into a disgruntled pout.  
“I will have him…..and you can’t stop me…”  
Suddenly, she was on the move, a compact but womanly figure clearly visible in the candlelight; she was swathed in some sort of black robe, which rippled as she moved, making her outline appear to shift in and out of focus. More disturbing still was that as she rose from Zak’s body, she had her forearm hooked around his neck, lifting him off the ground and pulling him to his knees. Without considering the cost, I rushed towards her, intent on loosening her hold. I realised my mistake as her hand connected with my face, the long pointed nails drawing blood from my cheek, the incredible force knocking me to the ground. I looked towards the space where she seemed to hover, Zak’s feet had left the floor, and he dangled like a smothered kitten in her grasp. I could see him, totally naked, the broad chest, and slim hips, his cock flaccid in his groin, the long powerful legs hanging lifeless, before her billowing shroud covered them both in blackness.  
It was then I realised that she had taken the man’s spirit, and I truly did feel the cold sickness of dread. The candles guttered, and the air was filled with the sound of wings beating and odd, otherworldly voices some shrill and others like deep groans, all making noise at the same time. I could only tremble in horror as the dark whirling cloud of the two spirits mingled and spun at an incredible rate, becoming a vortex of black powerful energy, before disappearing from my sight. The candles flickered weakly, and the room became quiet once more. I was almost sick, as I crawled back over to where the empty shell of Zak was flat out on the floor. I placed my ear over his heart, ignoring my cut face, but there was no evidence of breath or heartbeat. The immensity of what had just happened hit me like a blow to the heart. I had failed to protect him, and now he was gone. Tears tricked miserably from my eyes, stinging in the cuts she had made, but I was oblivious.  
I must make this right, but how? My instinct as a Shaman took over as I realised that as they were spirits, the only way to follow them was to become as spirit myself. I shook out the two small talismans given to me by the goddess, and pulled one around Zak’s neck, and the other around mine. Angelique had returned and I pulled her into my arms. “Take care of him baby,” I whispered, laying her on the expanse of his motionless chest. I positioned myself back on the floor, touching the crown of his head with my own, shuddering slightly as I sensed the coldness present in his rapidly fading aura. Years of travelling to the sound of drumming had given me an automatic ability to hear that hypnotic beat, even if there was no actual drumming taking place. I centred myself, praying to my ancestors, putting aside all the personal distress I felt, and called on all the spirit guides to take me down the long path to hell, where I knew I would find the undead.

CHAPTER SEVEN - THE NIGHT  
Macey’s body gradually turned as cold and as lifeless as Zak’s as she went deeper into the unconscious state to allow her to follow Ysatisia and Zak. The cat settled, breathing quietly, as the tall candles continued to burn, protecting the circle, keeping out any misguided entities which may bring harm to the two lifeless bodies, lying head to head, cold and silent in the centre of the room.  
The drumming in her mind became louder, as she found herself sitting cross legged, in an open clearing, the only light in the darkness was a small fire, burning low and barely casting sufficient light to see by. She was carrying a deerskin bag which contained the funeral jar, which surprised her, as she had made no conscious decision to try to take it on her headlong flight from the hacienda in the desert. She waited, slightly impatiently, as her teacher from the Spirit world approached the other side of the fire pit, and settled cross legged on the ground. She could hear him grumbling slightly, as old people do, and the soft tinkle of the shells and beads hanging from his belt. The grey sealskin boots looked the same now as they had ever since she was a young teenager and had met Ground Dancing Wolf for the first time.  
His breath was slow, and she thought he was going to chastise her for the recklessness she was showing by heading off in the spirit world, chasing ghosts. But as he knew her well, and he respected that this was something she had to do, his grey eyes were kindly as he spoke to her, his gruff voice almost a whisper, blending into the crackles and pops of the fire.  
“Machitey Spirit Seer, be warned. You could lose yourself in this. You will have to move in powerful circles. The Raven is a difficult creature; do not give yourself easily unless you are sure. But there is great good which can be yours, redemption of all darkness, and a pathway of love and light like no other. Take my help Machitey, I offer you the rope to secure you to your place on earth, and the rattle to call forth the spirit from she who has taken the one you seek. Remember the power in your own body to contain life and use it well. Make haste, your bodies grow colder and more lonely with every minute that passes.”  
She took the small plaited rope, and the rattle, pushing them into the deerskin bag, alongside the pot. As she stood, she heard the deep sure voice of Ground Dancing Wolf’s drum, spiriting her down, once again into the dark oppressive tunnel, feeling like she would never be warm or unafraid again. Spirits breathed foul breath, some had sharp snapping teeth; agonised screaming and crying, demonic laughter and putrefying flesh crawled close to her. The dark passageway seemed to be endless. She felt air rushing in with the power and force of an underground train, only to drop immediately into a stillness where something crawled over her face, and she could hear the scrape of broken fingernails against the wall behind her.  
Despite the distractions she made herself concentrate on Zak, how he looked when Ysatisia took him, the warmth of his body when she had connected with his life memories, using their connection she had fixed in place to enable her to free him. Her senses remembered the way he felt under her hands, the solid muscles and the soft skin. She even evoked the clean spicy musk smell of him, faint but unforgettable, as she relied on this cosmic connection to bring her to him. The difficulty of maintaining his aura in her mind, when prodded and attacked by the ghouls littering her path was huge, but her strength had been honed over 30 years of heavy duty shamanic practice, and all the fasting, dancing and praying had made her strong.  
Macey’s POV  
The time spun out of control, my mind locked on the twin tasks of maintaining connection with Zak, and, at the same time, flittering through the dark passageways and negotiating open spaces filled with soul’s intent on holding on to my energy. Much of the time I was travelling as Wolf, needing the strength and endurance of that body, but there were spaces where only Mouse or Spider could pass unscathed. When I lost the trail, the Hound came to my rescue, scenting out the path, and pushing my spirit further to the source of my quest.  
When eventually I sensed that I was spinning down through a vortex of power, and with a clear vision of Zak’s rather bizarre hairstyle, I dropped out from the darkness, into a hidden place surrounded by large blocks of carved stone. I knew that as spirit, I was mostly unable to move and communicate with the living world, so I chose to cloak myself with Cat energy, with four stealthy paws and the speed and grace to get me quickly hidden and out of trouble, should I be sighted as I searched for my target.  
I took some very small steps to look out from my hiding place. The ground was littered with masonry; I could see various dark shapes which had me cowering, until I realised that it was a graveyard, and these were tombstones. It was night time and thus deserted by humans. I had a feeling that I was near the lair of Ysatisia; the pungent smell of incense was all around, making my whiskers flare, and my tongue tickle. Cat energy is a beautiful fluid form, and effortlessly, I climbed over the stone blocks, stopping every so often to listen, and taste the air. Gazing up at the stars I could see I was thousands of years and miles from LA, bringing a special pang of sadness for Angelique, and my home. Nevertheless, the slim bond I had with the man I was seeking pulled me on, across the cold sand, and into what appeared to be the oldest part of the graveyard.  
My fur stood on end as I followed the sound of a slow solemn chanting, women singing in low mournful voices echoed around the grim place. Ancient stones and pyramids, obelisks and funeral urns covered the ground, and as I passed, small red eyed creatures blinked at me in the starlight. The chanting eventually led me to a mausoleum, the doors solid brass, pulled closed and chained together. I knew this was the place, and leaped to the nearest niche carved into the stone to survey any possible points of entry.  
By rearing up to a small crack in the masonry, I could look inside. The place was dim, lit only by oil lamps smoking and flickering in the dusty space. The women who had been chanting were standing around something at the far end of the crypt. I took a few steps further, to where the crack widened, pulled myself up, then jumped down easily, and hid stealthily under the clutter of lamps and broken masonry lying on the ground. I could see one of the women, taller than the others, draped in black, and holding what looked like some sort of wand. Ripples of power radiated from the sharp crystal at the point, causing the surrounding space to buzz and crackle with the energy it was generating. I felt afraid; this was a sorcerer’s wand indeed.  
I softly inched forward, I needed to know if I had found him; the woman with the wand must be Ysatisia, although she appeared solid enough to have manifested in a living being. The atmosphere in the crypt, with chanting and wand waving had the trappings of a ritual; were they raising the dead I wondered? The choking incense definitely contained yew, and the sweet cloying smoke of the powdered rose indicated necromancy and sex magic. Not a good combination. I had the urge to laugh, as I knew that Zak, if he was conscious of this, would be totally enraptured by the whole thing. The witches chant rose in volume, and my phantom fur prickled again, as I crouched immobile, intent on the dark spectacle in front of me.  
Suddenly, Ysatisia whipped round to face me, I had slightly miscalculated, and a small piece of stonework had scraped against the moulding under my paw. She could see me, proven by the flash and smell of singed fur, amazingly realistic for a spirit. As my shoulder burned with a searing pain, I managed to transform into a small orb, and flew to hide up behind a pillar, where I could hide again, and peer down to see the object these dark souls were crowded around.  
It was him, face like a beautiful death mask, pale and waxy in the lamplight, laid in a stone coffin on the floor. He seemed to be swathed in linen bandages, and they had draped a shroud of purple, littered with gold markings and jewelled edge pieces over the coffin. His shoulders and arms were bare, his black tattoos in evidence. I couldn’t see any damage on him, but their attempts to reanimate his spirit had evidently not worked. Question was, would mine?

CHAPTER EIGHT - THE RETURN TO THE DAWN  
The energy I had was beginning to wane; the journeying and shapeshifting had taken their toll, and yet the task of carrying Zak back to his body was still ahead of me. I needed help, and the only other entity here who could possibly help was Zak himself.  
I had dimmed everything down, so as to be just about invisible to all but the most sensitive of mediums, and then I set about calling to Zak. He was firmly wrapped in the spell cast by her Highness, I searched desperately for a way into his consciousness – we had shared the memories of our different paths through life and made a cosmic connection, but as there was nothing physical, this was unlikely to give a strong enough hook to bind him. Suddenly, my mind flashed on the image of Gracie. I knew he loved this creature, and that Gracie was devoted to him. I had to recreate her energy, and then plant it in his awareness, to break through the tight binding of Ysatisia’s spell. I rolled slightly, in order to check developments in the crypt.  
I was horrified to witness, through the dim light of the orb, that Ysatisia was kneeling at the foot of the coffin, some archaic spell muttering and whispering circled around between the other dark shapes kneeling to face the coffin. The Sorceress was holding the wand in her right hand, and the air shimmered around the deep purple crystal, as it discharged the excess of power it contained. Without exactly knowing what was going to happen, I knew that it would not be good.  
I pushed the image of Gracie towards Zak in a frenzied burst of energy, thinking that even if we got lost in the underworld, I was determined to prevent Ysatisia taking him. I dropped from the ledge where I had been hiding, and came into my own shape. I needed the rattle from my bag, ready to use as soon as I could feel a positive response from Zak. The coven and their Witch princess were still engrossed in the spell, but I noticed that the green eyed harpy was becoming more agitated, and twitching at the corner of the purple shroud covering the tall lifeless spirit in the coffin. Taking Zak back to his body would be a lot easier without the distraction of his semi -nakedness, so I forced myself to act before she moved the covering completely. I buzzed the rattle, my spirit calling to Zak to come to me, with all the urgency I could summon. The creatures round the coffin were swaying slightly, as their continuous moaning chant stuttered to a halt. I could tell that Zak was coming back to awareness; his energy was flowing into my consciousness, bright and clear, despite his puzzlement at where he was and what was happening.  
But it wasn’t quick enough. Ysatisia realised what was happening, her eyes flashing in the purple sparks cast by the wand. She brandished the wand toward me and I felt another searing pain in my hip. I had no choice but to drop to my knees, mentally reaching to Zak whilst frantically shaking the rattle. She looked positively livid as she moved, her feet in black jewelled sandals turning slowly in my direction. My heart was pulsing like a drum as she crossed the dusty tiled floor. Her robes were black as night, rustling and swirling around her body, like living creatures. She looked me in the eye, recognition causing her lips to curl back in a snarl.  
“I told you he’s mine….” The angry voice growled loudly and painfully in my ears. Her arm wielded the heavy wand, but its power combined with its substantial weight must have spoiled her aim, and the flash it produced carved a rut in the stone floor, narrowly missing my foot. I was losing my concentration, and tried to turn away from her to seek a temporary sanctuary behind the heavy pillars. I was no longer sure if I had Zak in my consciousness, but I couldn’t see him anywhere, so had to presume that his spirit was sharing my body. A crash by my head, and a shower of stones sprung me back into the unreality of Ysatisia hurling thunderbolts at me. Still advancing, she was trapping me between her wand, and the heavy stone slabs of the wall. I tried to call to Zak, but there was no way I could give him sufficient directions of how to return, in the few seconds left before she brought me down.  
I was praying, willing myself to a have quick and painless death, and acknowledging that I had failed, and there were two of us now to join the spirit world on a permanent basis. My last act was to take the jar from my bag, and hurl it at her with as much force as I could.  
Incredibly, before I blacked out, I felt what could only be described as a sonic boom, which, contained by the confines of the crypt, was overpowering. The ancient brass doors at the entrance flew open, despite the thick chains and the accumulated dirt dragging around them. I twisted around to see a bright blue crystalline light advancing down the centre of the cavelike structure. Ysatisia halted in mid strike, the wand reduced to a small point of lilac light in her hand. There was no hesitation as the glowing figure stepped forward from the light, and took stock of what was happening. Despite my frantic state, I risked a glance at the powerful figure of Isis, Queen of Heaven, clearly incredibly beautiful, despite her years, her slim body clothed in a radiant white robe, and a staff held ready to wield if needed. She pointed to Ysatisia, who came meekly to kneel at her feet, the black robes seething around her prone figure.  
I had an overwhelming feeling that I needed to get out, otherwise there would be no chance of leaving. I felt for the talisman around my neck, which, amazingly, alerted the attention of the Goddess. Her eyes, the deep blue of the ocean, kind and sad, regal and proud, fixed on me, and I heard her voice, gently piercing my consciousness.  
“You may return, both of you……..whole and healed with my protection on your journey”

CHAPTER NINE - RESURECTION  
I dropped into my body with such a jump I cracked skulls with the man laying opposite me. Without hesitation, I scooted around to kneel at his side, Angel moved stiffly away from her post on top of his chest, leaving a small warm patch over his heart. He was so cold, I shivered as I touched him, despite my own state of chill. My hands clasped the sides of his face, pushing his head back, and as soon as I saw his jaw drop slightly, I took a deep, deep breath, and, covering his mouth with my own, I exhaled with everything I had to dislodge his spirit from me, praying to all my deities for it to return back to where it belonged.  
Nothing.  
I tried again, I knew he was still hanging on in me, despite his weakened state, and I had to make him go back to his rightful place, or he would certainly die, and I would be lost. I was shedding tears, of fear and frustration, as I breathed in for the third time. Without warning, his hands lifted to hold my face, mirroring my own position.  
“Hey” he croaked, still holding my face. Before I realised he pulled me down and kissed me. It wasn’t a full on passionate kiss, but it definitely held a level of tenderness which promised so much more to come. He released me and I leaned down on his shoulder and wrapped my arms around him, whilst he did the same to me. His arms felt very human, and very strong, despite the shivering of both our bodies.  
“You ok?” I could not use words, the overpowering chain of events had taken my powers of concentration, all I could do was to hold him, and reassure myself he was back, whole in mind and body.  
“Freaking cold…”  
“Me too…”  
“Macey……?”  
“Hot shower……”  
I helped him to his knees, my own slightly more mobile than his frozen body, and we limped arm in arm from the room. I noticed the candles had burned out, and it was early morning outside. We had been gone all night.  
The bedroom was at the front of the building, next to the large walk in shower. I pushed Zak towards the door of the bathroom, but his arm still linked with mine as he pulled me towards him. He was grey faced, but smiled, showing his dimples, as he asked “Wash my back?” My stomach held a cage of butterflies as I realised that he really didn’t want to let me go.  
“OK cowboy, turn on the water before we die of hyperthermia” I tried to be calm but I was anything but. The drama and danger of the past twelve hours had played havoc with my control; I needed the contact with him just as much as he needed me. We both crowded into the shower, sharing the warm flow as the water soothed and relieved aching muscles. I was whole and undamaged; the power of Isis had evidently healed any wounds taken on the journey. I began to thaw, helped by Zak’s long soapy fingers shampooing my hair, and soaping my body gently, his hands chastely avoiding any contact of a sexual nature. I reciprocated, he bent his head to allow me to reach his hair, and I massaged the muscles of his shoulders and back, stiff from lying on the cold marble floor for so long. We were both quiet, not able to form rational thoughts, let alone coherent sentences.  
Eventually we were both warm, and, in a trancelike state, I found large fluffy towels, wrapping myself in one, I wound Zack into the other, trying to rub his hair at the same time. He chuckled slightly, and combed his fingers through the silky black strands, putting it in some semblance of the Zak fin he usually adopted. He turned to me smiling, and suddenIy I saw the Raven, briefly come and go before I knew it. I was bone weary, and yet as wired as hell. I knew what was going to happen, and yet I was doing my best to ignore it.  
It could have been awkward, but it wasn’t; I led him by the hand to the bed, and after a few gentle pats of the towel, taking away the last of the shower water, we both climbed onto the comfortable mattress. I felt his arm come around me, and my face fitted easily into the hollow of his shoulder. The last thing I remember was his voice, quiet in the stillness, saying “Thanks Macey”  
Our sleep was short in duration, but replenishing. We woke soon, both equally sure of the need we had, which had been mounting steadily since we had kissed. I was only too aware of the beat of my heart, as his mouth covered mine. I smiled and felt the curve of his lips as he smiled back. I couldn’t get enough of him, tasting and touching with my tongue, nibbling and kissing I was drawn into a deep and fascinating place where only his body and face existed, where only the sensations he gave to me were of any reality, and the steadily growing inferno of pleasure so created was sweeping me along, like a leaf in a hurricane. I knew that his arousal reciprocated my own, his little moans of pleasure, the small animal noises stemming from instinct and gratification without the need for words. We stoked the fire burning brightly between us, careful to prolong the ecstatic sensations as much as we could manage.  
I had my hand around his twitching cock, gently guiding him into me; juice from us both making his entry easy and immensely pleasurable. As I positioned myself above him, I kissed him again, both his mouth and my own were swollen and flushed from the kisses we had already shared. As I readied to engulf him completely, I had my hand just over his collar bones, feeling the shaking of his heartbeat. The Isis talisman he wore was smooth just under my fingertips, and I lifted it, brushing the small silver medallion with the one I wore. The effect was unbelievable.  
As he arched his back, I felt his swollen member fully embedded inside me, taking me to an orgasm which could only be dreamed of. We both cried out, giving and taking equally matched. He came just as my own climax broke, like heavy ocean waves, rolling pleasure over my whole body, extending the rippling pulses inside my soaking core, as I felt his cock throbbing and twitching. His hands were tightly wrapped around my waist, his chin pointed to the ceiling, as he made the world shake for both of us. I gasped and gently pulled his face toward me. The kiss we shared was like distilled bliss. I saw his eyes, blue hazel and kind of blurry, the moment had carried him away so completely.  
I was completely spent, as he wrapped his arms around me, my weight settling easily along the length of his body, leaving us still joined at the groin. He brushed my hair away from my eyes, and gazed openly into my face, his blue eyes tender and dreamy.  
“Macey, sweetheart, that was something else.... Did we just make that happen, or was it…you know….” His voice trailed off, and I wondered if this was going to bug him.  
“Maybe its Isis giving us something back for all the trouble we had. She is the Goddess of Love you know..”  
His eyes flicked open, the black lashes framing his surprised look. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but I wished I had kept the part about the Goddess of Love to myself. It would be very easy to let down my guard and allow Zak to get to know me, as indeed I knew I would be fascinated by him, especially in view of what our bodies had just experienced. I tried to make light of it as I snuggled down into his neck, which was very appealing despite being damp from our incredible lovemaking. I smoothed my hand over his broad chest, feeling the tiny static charges tickle between our bodies.  
“Go to sleep, Zak, everything’s cool”  
His breathing soon became that of a very sleeping Zak, but I was troubled. I lay awake in the soft light of oncoming evening, and the words of my Spirit Teacher echoed quietly back to me. He had told me I had “a pathway to love and light,” but did that include Zak? – I had seen his spirit totem and he was definitely the Raven, and likely to be a “difficult creature.” My head whirled despite my bone weary tiredness. I knew that if anything were to develop between us, we both needed to have full control of our feelings, at least to be in a competent physical and mental state to understand them. Currently we were both wiped out by the events of the night, and I knew that as sex between us was electric, that would make any clarification of the way we actually felt, totally impossible.

CHAPTER TEN - TIME TO SAY GOODNIGHT  
Macey slipped quietly away from Zak, even though his deep and even breathing indicated he had fallen into a profound sleep. Dressing in dark jeans and hoodie, she moved quickly, gathering only a few essentials, some food from the well-stocked fridge, and lastly Angelique who she settled in a battered wicker cat carrier. She couldn’t stop to think, she needed some space and some time to take in what had happened; to understand why she had risked her life doing something even a fully skilled shapeshifter would hesitate to tackle. Doing it for a man she hardly knew. That man, sleeping now in her bed. She had to leave quickly, before giving into the urge to lie down close to him, touch his hair, and begin the dream all over again.  
The sun had set, leaving streaks of red and gold still illuminating the darkening sky. Stars were peeking through, but she didn’t stop to appreciate the scene. With one last check that her floppy leather holdall had laptop, mobile, purse and credit cards, she stowed everything away into the copious space of her Jeep. The hacienda lights glowed, as the timer clicked over. She looked over the low roof, sighing gently, as if she could still see the glowing aura of the man sleeping inside.

To be continued……………


	2. PART TWO - READY OR NOT..

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Macey returns, and despite mutual misgivings, they just can't stop themseleves...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains swearing and mild sexual stuff.
> 
> (Which will only get worse.......)

PART TWO

CHAPTER ONE – READY OR NOT…….

Zak’s world had just about returned to normality; Gracie was happy, bounding up to him carrying her squeaky toy whenever she had the chance. Nick was happy, he had been contacted by a film company who wanted him to take on a new show, with an opportunity to direct as well as to film. Aaron was happy, he and Zak had made up after their falling out. Zak explained that the ‘thing’ in the jar caused the problem, since then they had spent hours together discussing as much as Zak could remember of the strange possession he had experienced. But for the tall dark ghost hunter it all just wasn’t enough, and he had endured many sleepless nights, when the memory of Macey’s touch stirred him unbearably. The new series wasn’t due for another six weeks, leaving him free time to explore fresh haunted sites, go out and meet his friends, in fact all the usual stuff he did, but not enough to avoid one part of his mind gnawing away, like Gracie with a chewie, over the memory of the tall woman, with her gentle touch and crazy silver eyes.  
That evening was playing out just like any other Sunday evening. After some time spent with his family in the afternoon, he was alone in his ‘dungeon’ distracted by recording new sounds for his latest music project. He almost missed the sonorous clang of the door chimes, as his headphones were jammed tight over his ears. Gracie was quicker off the mark, barking and wagging her tail in excitement at the front door.

He put his eye to the peep-hole, wary of fans calling late in the evening, but all he could see outside was a tall figure, wrapped in a Clint Eastwood type poncho, with shoulder length dark hair just visible under the wide brimmed hat. His heart racing, he quickly opened the security locks and threw open the door. Sure, he was excited, but after almost two months apart, he was unsure of how he should act around her; it was like reading a map with no road names, he wasn’t at all certain where he was.  
He stepped forward, only inches from her, and held out his arms in a purely spontaneous gesture.  
“Macey, it’s so good to see you!! Where the fuck have you been?”  
He beamed as she hugged him, planting a quick warm kiss on the side of his face, then all too quickly dropping her arms and letting him go.

“Zak, it’s so good to see you again ….I’m sorry I didn’t stick around to make sure you were ok…I’ll try to explain…..I shouldn’t have arrived so unannounced – I’ve been in the middle of Mexico and my phone couldn’t get a signal, plus it’s been really tough, so …..” He stopped the stream of apologies by surprising himself and kissing her firmly on the mouth, which he could tell she didn’t expect by the startled look in her eyes. Even so, she didn’t push him away.  
He hefted her large battered suitcase into the hallway, and with a hand on the small of her back, ushered her into the living room, where the red leather furniture was familiar and comfortable. Not really knowing how to start the conversation, but determined to be honest, Zak said the first thing that popped into his head.

“I missed you, Macey. Why in hell did you take off like that…?”

She held his gaze, the unsettling gleam of her silver eyes direct in the soft shades of the lamp light.  
“Zak, I missed you too. I had to go, I’m sorry it was so abrupt…” She hesitated slightly, and then continued, her soft, accented voice spanning the distance between them. “It was such an intense experience, I’d never done anything so…well….extreme” she held her hands wide apart, as if showing him the size of a fish she had caught. “The whole thing of bringing you back, seeing the Raven, and then…well you know what happened…” He could not see if she was blushing, but he knew that he was.  
“What the fuck does a Raven have to do with it?” He snorted in frustration, staring at Macey so incredulously that she laughed, a pleasant chuckle, which infectiously spread to Zak, who laughed because she was laughing, and the ice was broken.  
Still smiling, Zak asked “Would you like something to eat, dinner maybe.... I know a great restaurant…?” He leaned forward enthusiastically.

Macey patted down her faded poncho, and smiled at him, “I’m not really dressed for dinner- I’ve still got Mexican dust in my boots, and four hours on the Tijuana special have been an experience to say the least. I’ll get room service later.”  
“Oh no you won’t, you’re staying here. I’ve got a perfectly good guest room, and I can make real soup…!” His voice ratched up in excitement, until he realised how carried away he was. Then he closed his mouth firmly, and looked away, embarrassed.  
“And Gracie – don’t forget Gracie” Macey smiled again stroking the soft fur of the grey and cream dog, and Zak smiled too, his eyes down on the dog, and his brain spinning.

 

Some time later, Macey was sitting in his well appointed kitchen, a bowl of soup almost finished in front of her, and the tall blue eyed man leaning on the opposite side of the counter, alternatively pulling the bread from the crust he held, and staring at her like she was a full body apparition he was capturing on film. She was showered and dressed in a long soft skirt of a deep red colour, paired with a cream lace peasant blouse, which looked both relaxed and ravishing at the same time. Her skin had caught a slight tan from the Mexican sun, and he noticed she had lost the gauntness he remembered. She was telling him, in between mouthfuls of the soup, about her work in Mexico, and the earthquake, where several children had been injured, some fatally. Macey had been summoned to help the passing of the children who had not survived their injuries. Zak was quiet in fascination; he had always approached contact with spirits as a sort of head on confrontation, he was now beginning to realise that there were other ways to enter the spirit world. One of the many reasons that Macey intrigued him was the work she did, and he was eager to learn more.  
His own experience had shown him the confidence and power possessed by this woman, he was longing to talk to her about her work, hoping she would open up and talk to him. But sitting watching her finish her soup, her glossy dark hair curling down to her shoulders, he realised that this was not the only thing he wanted to take further, indeed he was having a difficult time keeping himself from moving around the counter, and pulling her into his arms. He mentally put the brakes on, after all, he had offered her the guest room, and it would be decidedly uncool to pounce on her as soon as she put down her spoon. He huffed in frustration, looking down at his plate so she didn’t spot the longing on his face.

 

Macey

He was the perfect gentleman, even though he was aching to put his arms around me…I knew because I felt exactly the same. The link I had forged with him should have faded by now, usually no more than 24 hours went by before these connections became just a memory, but with Zak, it wasn’t fading at all. If I wasn’t careful, it could grow even stronger. I knew that I would welcome his attentions; I never let my guard down with anyone, (I’d learned from my mistakes,) but on a purely physical level, and totally spontaneously, we had bonded undeniably. My conscience pricked, as I recognised that just to use him as a kind of sex toy, would be unforgivably stupid and wrong.  
After we had eaten he led me back into the lounge, where I sat on the red leather settee, Zak’s long body occupying the space nearby. Not too close, I mentally held him at bay. It was now or never.  
I prayed silently to the many goddesses both for eloquence and clarity, then leaned over to take his long fingered hand in mine, feeling his fingers curl around, and the tiny prickles of energy as we connected.  
“Zak, there is something else which made me stay away from you. Something I don’t know how you’ll react to”  
His eyes, soft and blue, darkened as he met mine, and what had been a sweet smile on his lips, became a stillness, waiting for me to go ahead and tell him the secret I was carrying. I locked my fingers around his, feeling his hand tense in mine, but I wouldn’t let him go.  
“You remember when I told you about Isis, being the goddess of Love. I think she sort of cast a spell on us, well, me at least…I don’t know if it’s real or not…or if it will last or not…but it’s kind of made things complicated….”  
“Go on” his voice came out deep and gravelly, I recognised that he was very wary of what I might be telling him. I got on with it while I had him held prisoner with my fingers.  
“It’s just that I feel like I’m been torn in two; while I was away I thought about you so much, and what we did,” I rushed on, breathless, “but now I’m with you, I keep realising how difficult it would be for us to be together. My world is so different to yours, I have to go wherever I’m needed, I never have relationships for that reason, and I keep what I do private.” I felt the anguish twist in my belly, I just couldn’t break this thing, so I ended by saying, “But Zak, despite all that I’m just, well, nuts about you……”  
The words died like I had run out of oxygen.  
Zak let my hand go, crossing his arms as he did so. His eyes were downcast, a solemn expression showing on his face. I stayed quiet, I’d said enough, and my palms were now damp with perspiration, as I tried to rub them on my skirt without him seeing. It seemed like forever before he spoke, his voice quiet and gentle, in the large room.  
“Macey, I know I owe you my life – I don’t really remember a lot about what happened, and I am hoping you’ll explain it. I do remember the ‘connection’ and I feel it just as hard as you do. I don’t know how to deal with this – it’s like being completely in love with a stranger; I hardly know you and yet I want you so badly it hurts.” His head bowed to connect his chin to his chest, and I felt a total shit for hurting him, even though I had done nothing wrong. “I know it’s crazy, but why don’t we just go with this…this..thing, until we know how we really feel, or it just goes away. You only need to share what feels comfortable, come and go as you need to. I’ll be fine with that, I’m not looking for a relationship and I got all my other stuff to do…….” His shoulders and hands had had risen, palms towards me, suggesting surrendering without a fight.  
I gazed at him, matching his clear blue stare. What he was proposing was a recipe for disaster. Even if neither of us wanted a ‘relationship’ (whatever that meant!) I could imagine scenarios where one or both of us would be jealous when we were apart; he would hate my spending time away; I would loathe his ‘public persona’ and yet we would be bound by this curse of infatuation conjured by Isis. What a lousy joke.  
I looked down and shook my head, sadly; felt him gently touch my arm, the warmth of his fingers tingling against my skin.  
“Please Macey,” his voice was gentle and tender, “give us a chance at least. I’ll behave myself.” He tried to make light of the situation.  
“It’s not your behaviour I’m worried about…..” I smiled, a little grimly. “Sorry, but I need sleep. We can talk again in the morning, if that’s OK. Thanks for letting me stay here…” My voice trailed away as I quietly padded out of the room, hearing Gracie whine, followed by Zak’s deep voice comforting his dog.

…  
He was unsure of how the evening had ended. How did she feel, did she want him or not? He let Gracie out on the decking, and listened to the water flow over the stones in the pool, enjoying the coolness of the evening. It felt good to be back near her again, and he recognised that, despite her simple clothes and ‘otherworldliness’, he was captivated. He acknowledged, mentally, that he had been with enough women to know that she was different, but he couldn’t put her into any of the categories of women he knew. She wasn’t a bimbo, definitely not; she wasn’t a tomboy or a Goth, not a classic beauty, or the girl next door. She was like a totally new species; she had been sexy and very intimate with him in bed, (albeit only once), and yet she had a reserved and calm demeanour which intrigued the hell out of him. Eventually, with Gracie settled in her basket, Zak, still puzzled, went to bed, passing the guest bedroom door which, he noticed with a small sigh, was firmly closed.

He was dozing, his legs twitching, restless as all the confusion about Macey whirled around in his head. Her proximity seemed to have loosened some of the memories of the time he was lost in the spirit world, although most of it still remained unclear. He turned, tossing back the sheets, trying to find a comfortable sleeping position. His eyes opened when a floorboard squeaked. It wasn’t Gracie, once down she never moved from her bed. The Ghost Hunter’s heart speeded up and he sprung bolt upright as the door slowly swung open. The one thing he was hoping for most, but least expected, was Macey herself, wraithlike and motionless in the doorway. She whispered, so quietly that her voice might have been only in his head…”Zak…….”  
He swallowed hard to find a voice, then answered, “Macey. Couldn’t you sleep either…?”

Macey looked into his eyes, all of the dim light in the room collected in her gaze. She didn’t want to talk, or to listen, she just wanted his body, lean and muscled, wrapped around her own. She had felt the ache for him constantly whilst in Mexico, her work the only distraction. Slowly she crossed the room, pulling off her long night shirt in a smooth motion, her eyes never leaving Zak’s face.  
He had hardly sufficient time to reassure himself that this wasn’t another explicit dream, when she reached down and pulled off his own tee shirt. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, feeling Macey’s knees, quivering slightly, captured between his own, as she stood in front of him; the naked skin on her long toned body appearing milky and smooth in the dim light. She moved closer, Zak groaned quietly as she meshed her fingers together at the back of his neck, pulling his head towards her, and meeting his lips in what felt like their very first kiss.

This, just a simple kiss ignited their passion all over again. There were no words, no permissions or shyness between them, only the sense and taste of flesh; warm, wet, hard, soft, and the sharing of pleasure, acknowledged by breath and tension, to the point that the boundaries between them became blurred, and only the hardcore spikes of orgasm surging through their bodies loosened them from their blissful sea of lust.


	3. IS THIS REAL?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zak gets to know more about Macey.

CHAPTER THREE - IS THIS REAL?

Macey was curled on her side, thick hair tangled over her face like a curtain of dark tortoiseshell. As Zak woke, she wriggled out from under the weight of his arm, kissed the corner of his mouth, and, collecting her crumpled night shirt, padded away to her own room, leaving without a word.

Later, as Zak, accompanied by an excited Gracie, walked into the kitchen, she was sitting at the counter, showered and dressed in another one of her loose outfits, eating a slice of wholemeal toast. Zak gently put his hand on her shoulder, and nuzzled the top of her damp head, appreciating the clean fresh scent of her hair. He noticed she had her phone on the counter, showing a picture of a small boy with a bandage swathing his head.

“Is that one of your Mexican patients?” he asked, sounding both curious and sympathetic. He carried on to toast some bread for himself, whilst Macey explained how she needed pictures of some of the orphaned children, to pass on to the authorities who could find adoptive patents for these kids. She needed to sort out the pictures with the names of the small sad figures, to get E mailed as soon as possible. Zak invited her to download onto one of his hi spec laptops, and offered to help her with the task.  
So it was, after the toast and coffee were cleared away, they sat, side by side, at Zak’s desk. Macey watched in fascination, as Zak’s long fingers showed practiced ease, ejecting the memory card from the phone, and quickly loading up the pictures on the high resolution screen. Macey’s thigh was pressed up against his, allowing them both to enjoy the warmth and closeness, both silently recognising that physical contact was almost a necessity when they were together in the same room.  
As Macey studied her ‘phone, Zak zoomed in on the photo of a tearful little girl in a pink dress, held gently in Macey’s arms, whilst someone else took the shot. Although he found it distressing, Zak studied the image with professional interest, noticing Macey’s eyes were steel grey, against the background of low buildings, damaged and crumbling.  
“Was this all caused by the earthquake?”

Macey looked up from her notes, her face solemn in the light of the screen, “Yes, it’s a poor area, and the emergency services are almost non-existent. The people there are very open to the spirits, expecting that they will be either taken off to the next world, or healed depending on how powerful the Shaman is who helps them. It’s sad in a way as they depend so much on our interventions, and don’t help themselves……” Her voice trailed off and she continued adjusting her notes as she reviewed what she had keyed into her phone. 

Zak looked back to the screen, his face still in thought as he pondered the things Macey had told him. He clicked onto the next picture, and his breath caught in his throat as he saw a small lifeless body in the centre of the screen; a little boy, maybe only four years old, his chest caved in and bloody, and his face a mud splattered blur.  
“Jesus….” He pushed back from the desktop, running his hand over the back of his head as he turned away, the image still burning in his memory. The woman looked up, her eyes full of concern as she saw the distress plainly shown on his face.  
“What the fuck…..why in God’s name do you have this on your fucking camera…?” His voice almost broke as he struggled to take in what he had seen. Macey quickly stood and took his arm, gently leading him to the other side of the desk, where the picture was hidden from view. Running her hand down his arm in a comforting gesture, she took his hand in hers, and gazed up into his eyes. She recognised the effect seeing the photo had on him, he was so sensitive around children and animals, and she knew that her explanation needed to be something he could reconcile.

“I haven’t told you yet about the all the stuff I deal with; I know you chase spirits, trying to find out who they are and how they die, but..” here she gripped his hand firmly, “but, the difference is that you contact them a long time, sometimes years, after their physical body has gone”. His eyes were staring into Macey’s clear silver orbs, silently taking in what she was saying. “But I take them through it; I’m actually there when they go, and sometimes I even have to go with them, if they are lost or stuck, just to make sure they are OK.”  
His head rolled back, and his free hand rubbed over his eyes, before he took hold of her other hand, and drew her slim body to him for a comforting hug. “You OK?” Macey asked softly, “I didn’t mean for you to be drawn into that side of things, I was so wrapped up in my own stuff, I ….” She stopped talking, as Zak kissed her, softly.

“Shit, Macey! I hunt freaking ghosts for a living, I should be able to deal with death.” He was frowning, his eyebrows pulled together over his blue-hazel eyes. “I just didn’t expect to see someone so young…..” she twined her arms around his shoulders, and placed small kisses on his neck, to distract him from the pain he was feeling, knowing her work would affect him in many ways, and that this was the just the first.

“I know it’s heartbreaking to look at, but when you see that Death is part of the circle, things become more …well….bearable” She needed him to come sit back at the desk, and face his fears. She returned to her chair, and soon enough, he folded his long legs under his own seat, and flicked off the screen saver. They both looked at the child’s body, and Macey offered a small prayer to the ancestors for protection and blessings. Zak leaned against her, listening to the words in silence.

Macey  
I had almost got to the end of the batch of photos and Zak was finding it a little easier to cope with the images of distress, and sometimes death, on the screen. We came to the last photo, and he almost catapulted forward, pointing at the screen.  
“What is that…? Woah…What the hell is that Macey?

I followed his finger pointing to the picture of a small boy, being nursed by an elderly woman. The shot was taken as the evening light waned, against a backdrop of dark cactus branches. I looked above the boys head, and saw, standing at the side of the two living figures, the shape of a tall man, positioned sideways on, his hands reaching out to the boy. The outline was easily traced against the dark foliage, as if the evening light was bouncing off the outline of a real person, but, it was unmistakable that the figure was completely transparent. I looked across at Zak, wondering how he would react to the strange image caught by the camera.  
He stared into my eyes and for one frantic moment I could sense his excitement before he looked back to the screen. Rapid clicks on the mouse brought up the image to a full screen sized view. It was clear, there, captured on the photo was a man’s silhouette, it even held some details of his clothes, the buttoned waistcoat and striped trousers he wore. He had a large hooked nose, and seemed to be wearing a broad brimmed hat, strangely reminiscent of the one I usually wore.

“Jesus Christ Macey, is this the sort of stuff you see, or are they hidden to you, and just picked up on camera?”  
I stood and put my arm over his wide shoulders, feeling the heat of him burning through his tee shirt, making me feel a quiver of excitement deep in my belly. Trying to stay calm and keep my erotic feelings to myself, I stupidly wound myself up even more by curling my fingers into the soft straight hair which was almost touching his collar.

Smiling down at his little boy at Christmas face, I explained that I did see the spirits, often in fact when I did healing work, as this is a ‘side effect’ of the power I used, coming from the Shaman ancestors passed down through the generations. He stood up abruptly, the energy snapping through him, as he realised the implications of what I had just said. His tall frame could not keep still as he paced, like a caged animal in the small room. I knew what would come next.

“Macey, could you, like, would you?…Shit, I need to see what you do….please…” He came back to where I waited, calmly trying to focus on just how much I could reveal to him of the shaman’s role, here in the twenty first century. He was leaning over me, earnest and excited, his wide blue eyes scanning mine for a reaction to his plea. I took a deep breath, searching for the right answer.  
“To see what I do won’t tell you a great deal…..it’s possibly..” and here I stopped as he was gripping both my hands in his, the energy of the bond we had crackling into my bones, and sending little geese bumping clumsily up my bare arms. “It may be better if you really want to experience something, to do some shamanic work with me…” Before I could finish, he was smiling, his teeth white against the light tan of his face. “Hold on there, cowboy, there’s a lot involved, and you need to know just what you are letting yourself in for…it might be more than you expect”


	4. Emotional Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Action followed by a dream.....  
> Stirs up a whole lot of passion.....

After an intense morning’s work, Macey had finished sending e mails, and Zak, pumped full of enthusiasm, but anxious not to push Macey into anything she didn’t want to do, decided that they would head out to the beach, taking the dog and a makeshift picnic, to relax by the sea for a couple of hours.

 

The day was warm but cloudy, and the ocean was choppy, solid white breakers crashing onto the sandy beach. The two people and the dog seemed to be the only life for miles around, as they sat companionably on the blanket, listening to the sound of water flooding onto the rocky points further up the beach. Zak had brought one of Gracie’s toys, which he threw up to the rocks for the dog to retrieve, careful not to send her into the breakers. Even though she could swim, the waves were high and dangerous.  
The pair relaxed, leaning close to each other, both engrossed in their own thoughts, revelling in the open air and the sea and sky, blowing away the dark images of the morning. Macey put all concerns aside of how she would help Zak learn about the Shamanic world, and narrowed down her focus to the simple, but powerful, effects of the sound of the surf, and Zak’s long fingers stroking her arm. He turned to look her in the eye, his fingers gently moving over the silver scars on her inner forearm. “What’s these from?” his voice was gruff and concerned; “Did you do them…?”

 

Macey smiled at him, and slowly shook her head. “Sometimes, not often, the power of my words and my actions are not enough. Then, in certain circumstances, I need to use my blood. I suppose I did make them, but not in a self harm sort of way….” Her voice tailed off into silence whilst Zak processed what she just told him. He looked at her other arm, and found a similar track of small silvery scars, all healed, and presumably all inflicted earlier in her life.   
“I really don’t know anything about you Macey….”

 

“Same for me too, Zak.” Her lips curled up in a wry smile, and he almost didn’t catch her next words, “But I think that’s about to change….” She twisted around, just about to kiss him, when small high cries sounded on the breeze gusting around them. Zak’s head rose immediately, and he tensed as he heard the frightened yips of his dog, somewhere near the rocks. Macey was on her feet in an instant, running swiftly, her sandals pushing small spurts of sand as she flew across the beach, way ahead of Zak.  
When he reached the rocks, Macey had already pulled off everything but her underwear. Zak peered over the cliff edge, his fear of heights fighting with his fear for Gracie, her head a blur just visible in the churning salt water below. Macey grabbed his face, and turned him to face across the point to a dip in the ground, where the rocks almost dropped down to sea level. He felt frozen in terror for the dog struggling in the water.

 

“I’ll grab her – you get there” she pointed to the dip, “and be ready to pull her out” Her voice was close to his ear, as the sounds of wind and waves grew stronger. He looked at her with fear, frustration in his eyes, knowing that Gracie was his dog, and he should be the rescuer. Immediately, Macey knew.  
She yelled in his ear, “I can swim, but I’m not strong enough to pull her out, and then to get me out of those fucking waves. You are.” He got the message, and with a quick look at the dog, almost submerged by the churning water, he nodded back to Macey. His words telling her to be careful came too late, as she leaped out from the cliff, to dive into what she hoped was deep water. Zak watched, holding his breath, until her slick dark head appeared, and a strong crawl stroke pulled her back into shore, aiming for the struggling dog. He muttered to himself, really scared now for both of them, feeling terribly guilty that Macey was in the water and not himself. But as he watched, he had to admit to himself that she was a much stronger swimmer, and he would probably have drowned both himself and Gracie by now.

 

His legs ached by the time he stood at the waters edge, as his progress down had been a nightmare combination of shifting rocks and unbearable tension. He could see Macey, swimming on her back, his beloved mutt held under one arm, whilst she battled against the undertow, getting them both in as close as she could to the rocky ledge. Zak flattened himself so he could reach out over the seething water, and was rewarded when his hand made contact with a lump of soggy fur. Although the dog was soaking, he easily swung her over and placed her on the rock, well away from the edge. His anxious glance revealed that her eyes were open and she was rolling up into an unsteady crouch.

 

Much as he wanted to tend to the dog, he knew that the woman who had saved his animal was still in the water and needed help. His heart contracted as he leaned out over the edge, seeing Macey’s eyes looking up at him, trusting him to move her to safety. With the next influx of water, she grabbed his arm with both hands, trying to use the power of the incoming wave to lift her. Just as Zak began to pull her, he felt something holding her back, but he didn’t stop, he kept on pulling and lifted her clear, over the rough edge, and onto solid ground.

 

Both were winded and wet, yet they wasted no time seeking Gracie. The dog was back on her feet, a puddle of slimy vomit on the rock in front of her. Zak frowned in concern, “Poor puppy, daddy let the nasty waves get you….my poor Gracie…” Now the drama was over, and they were all still alive, he was feeling emotional and very shaken. He turned to Macey, who stood shivering and white faced, to pull her to him, to try to warm her, hoping to give her the calm feeling he found when he had her in his arms. His eyes turned wide and horrified when he saw the blood flowing down her leg from a cut high on her shin.   
“Jesus Christ, you’re bleeding!” his voice rose with tension, as he took in the situation. He pulled the clothes she had left on the headland from his pants pocket, where he had pushed them earlier, and gently helped her dress. She tore a strip off the skirt hem, and tied it around her calf. She looked at Zak, and smiled thinly, “it’s not as bad as it looks, just needs a wash and a bandage…it’ll be gone tomorrow…..”

 

Macey  
“I’m taking you to the hospital, you might need a shot…..” Zak meant well, his voice full of concern, as he pulled together our belongings into the blanket we had left on the beach, before our frantic dash to rescue Gracie. I was slightly irritated by his assumption that the only place I could get proper attention was a hospital, but I had to keep telling myself that he didn’t know much about healing, and he was genuinely concerned. We were almost at his jeep, Gracie had thrown up again, and was whining softly.   
“Give her a drink, she just needs to get the salt water out of her system. She’ll be fine…..” He looked like he might cry, but unlocked the van and stowed the dog in a specially constructed crate, where her water bowl was already filled. I limped around to the passenger side, the pain of my gashed leg now full on, as the cold water numbness and adrenaline rush had both faded. With an effort I pulled myself into the vehicle. Zak climbed behind the wheel, and put his arm over my shoulders. I stared into his eyes, he looked pale and shattered, a frown creasing between his brows. His clothes were salt stained and gravelly, whilst I looked like a shipwreck, with my matted sea soaked hair, and the ragged skirt, sticky with blood, clinging to my legs. “Take us home, Zak.” It came out as little more than a whisper, but he responded, and I sat back gratefully as the engine roared, and we pulled away from the coast, and back to the safety of Zak’s home.

 

Some time later I had showered the salt and blood off me, and, in the privacy of my room, delved into the many mysterious herbs and potions contained by my battered brown suitcase. Finding the stuff I needed, I carried the small cloth bag of herbs downstairs to the kitchen. I should have known that Zak would be sitting with Gracie, who was also washed free from the sea water, her fur brushed, and a small bowl of dry doggie biscuits in front of her.   
“How is she?” I perched carefully nearby on the kitchen stool. Zak gave me a tired smile, his eyes now behind his dark rimmed glasses, making him look both studious and geeky. He was also clean, dressed in sweatpants and a dark hoodie decorated with skulls.  
“She’s ok….” He continued to talk a soft and mushy baby language to Gracie, as she cocked her ears to him, occasionally glancing up at me with a knowing look. She had him wrapped around her every whim, and Zak was a willing victim. I smiled to see them both so good together, and then slid off the stool to get something to eat going. We chose soya chili and jacket potatoes, Zak’s freezer yielding some good possibilities. When we had eaten, I tidied away the remains, whilst Zak loaded the dishwasher, and then fussed some more over Gracie. The dog was bright eyed, and had eaten without throwing up, so I guessed that by morning she would be back to her normal bouncy self.

 

Zak put his arm across my shoulder, as I closed the fridge, and drew me into a hug. I could tell he was tired, the muscles in his arms were heavy across my back, but I welcomed the closeness of him, breathing in the combination of hair product, cologne, and sheer animal maleness that was his own special fragrance. His mouth was close to my ear, tickling as he spoke,  
“I haven’t thanked you properly. First it was me you save, then my dog. I owe you Macey, I owe you big time.” I stroked his back, acknowledging his words. “Gracie is everything to me, since the day I brought her home from the shelter, she has been so good for me. I don’t do heavy relationships, I use the fact that spirits follow me home as an excuse, but really, I’ve been just like a kid who won’t grow up…..I’m selfish, childish and always have to have my own way. Shit, I don’t know how Nick and Aaron put up with me, let alone a woman….but Gracie Bagans, she’s amazing.”  
We were still together, my head just tipped on his shoulder, our arms wrapped tightly around each other. “I understand Zak, believe me I do.” I thought about my cat, Angel, who was being cared for by a friend of mine, my conscience pricking that I should go and pick her up. 

 

ZAK  
My lounge was cozy in the artificial firelight, drapes closed to the damp and windy evening. Macey was leaning into my shoulder, speaking softly, giving me the chance to piece together the missing fragments of events from almost three months ago. I was incredulous, and almost disbelieved the story, had it not been for the memories I still retained of the green eyed bitch Ysatisia, the unbearable hell she had put me through; the possession, the abduction, and he way I had been brought back to life. And, of course, the way it was with Macey afterwards, when we had been together in her bed. I smiled to myself, and felt her move slightly, her breath a soft huff of exasperation. It was as if she could read my mind, but then, I could almost feel her thoughts, and as she leaned into my side, I could tell she was tired, and her leg was hurting. 

“How’s your leg? I asked. I didn’t expect her to pull her skirt away, and expose a long smooth leg, marred by the angry wound, the edges gaping and surrounded by a large bruise. I was horrified that I hadn’t taken her to the ER, and even more when I suddenly realised that she had been caught on the rocks when I pulled her out of the sea, and I had just blindly gone ahead. “Oh Macey, I’m so, so sorry you’ve been hurt,” I did feel really heart broken, it was bad enough that Gracie had nearly been drowned. She gently pulled herself up from the sofa, where we had been cuddled together, and kissed my cheek.

“it’s fine Zak, just hurts like a bastard. I’ll stick some of my “special” herbs on it, and by tomorrow it’ll be fine.” Her fingers gave quotation marks to the word special, and she smirked, as if taking the piss out of herself. She is a funny mixture, I thought, very solemn and correct as a rule, yet she could, and did, swear like a sailor. 

She moved out to the kitchen, presumably to concoct her herbal mixture, and I took a last swig of my water as the evening drew late. I was bone weary but despite that, just thinking about Macey got me wanting her. In my past I had always gone for the young and most beautiful chicks with top heavy figures, long legs in short skirts, and usually all the high maintenance stuff which went with that. Although these relationships were never short on sex, they seemed not to have the depth of feeling needed for real satisfaction. Young women often rushed and despite lots of pouting and moaning, I had the inclination they used sex as a currency to get what they wanted from me. Consequently, it had begun to feel a very selfish act; I went through the moves without commitment, the gnawing sense of failure becoming greater with each new girl I took to my bed.

But with Macey, it all changed. It was a completely different experience. There seemed like no distance between us, and yet every touch was a new discovery. After making love with her twice, I was a little shocked about how uninhibited she actually was, but I also found it incredibly exciting; I was stunned by how much I wanted to please her.   
I realised I was sitting there with a throbbing hard on, so quickly switched my thoughts back to her healing stuff. I walked calmly into the kitchen, no embarrassing lump in my trousers, to find her finishing up bandaging her leg, a large white gauze pad over her cut. There was a pan in the sink with some smelly green mush stuck inside, which was presumably the “healing” mixture. My first aid kit open on the counter top provided the bandages. She went over to wash the pan, and I stopped her, gently pulling her to face me. “No, you go get some rest, I’ll finish up.” I kissed her lightly, the sweetness rising between us, like seductive bubbles tingling in the blood. I left it to her to choose where she slept. Wherever, I would not let her get away from me again. Not now.

Sadly, I slept alone.

 

Macey  
I’d fixed up my leg, although it was still burning and throbbing. Zak’s goodnight kiss was so tempting, I almost gave in and climbed into his bed, but I needed to get myself whole again, and I already knew how he affected me. I could not stop myself, he was like a sacrificial lamb to my inner tiger.

I sat on the guest bed, considering what to have to help me sleep through the pain of my gashed shin, then I rooted in the big leather case, behind the plate of the lock, to find a cloth bag full of small white fibers. Mexico is one of the few places where hallucenogenics are available, and this stuff had been put together there by a local medicine man, was made specifically as a remedy for the suffering of the wounded. As I had a small amount left, I brought it back with me, knowing that even if it was found in my case, the drug it contained would be unrecognisable in the unlikely event it was tested. I swigged down a small clump of the tickly threads with water, and slipped under the clean cotton sheet. I knew Zak was awake, and I really wanted to lie with him, to soothe his restlessness to sleep, but I also knew that even the small amount of hallucinogenic I had taken might have some very odd effects.

I drifted in and out of the state between sleeping and waking, aware of churning sounds and colours, as the effects of the drug possessed my senses, taking me out further into a different dimension in space and time. I passed over the ocean, black and fathomless, blown by the wind like a small speck of dust, without will and knowledge of my destination. Then, without any sense of transformation, I became aware of standing, overlooking a rocky headland. As I gazed through the darkness, the sounds of voices and laughter caught my attention. I looked behind me to see a large black building, seemingly hovering in the surrounding mist. I could see tall pointed windows in the stonework, coloured lights flickering through the surrounding blackness. The air shimmered, as I felt a soft curtain of drizzle, like a soaked silk scarf, wetting my face and the black clothes I wore. I could hear breaking waves in the distance and the dirge like mix of slow music and deep voices singing in the funeral tones of a Gregorian chant.

I turned towards the sounds and gently trod over the sodden ground, noticing how obscene the small sucking noises my black boots made as I passed. I started to imagine my feet were being eaten by sludge dwelling monsters, but then grimly tried to focus on reality, such as it was. My skirts were long, and I raised them in a practised gesture as I pushed on to reach the top of the headland, hearing the voices, and strange unearthly music become clearer as I approached. I saw now the building was an old abbey, the walls cracked and moss covered. I searched for a door, my gloved hands very small on the ancient masonry. Suddenly, without knowing how it happened, I was inside, the flickering of a hundred candles lighting the scene unfolding before my eyes. Figures were sitting around tables, standing in groups, some were even dancing as the groaning organ music, and somnolent violins blended now into a sombre and slow waltz. Clothing, uniformly dark, was offset by sparkling jewels, ruffles of lace and velvet adding to the finery. 

As I glanced around I noticed there was something frighteningly odd about the way they looked. Each had the facial feature of some kind of animal, whether it was a pigs snout on a large breasted harlot, a horses mouth on a mad eyed woman, fish eyes in a tall angular youth, a yellow bonelike beak swelled from between an old mans wrinkled cheeks. I looked down at my own clothing, feeling a shiver of apprehension. I too was dressed in black, a low fronted gown, the long necklace of shimmering rubies at my throat appearing like dark droplets of blood against my white skin. I pushed the cloak back to fully reveal my dress, fitted tightly to the waist, to fall billowing out in layers of ruffled, jet dark silk. There were no mirrors in the place, but the candles were glowing brightly, as if a million reflections bounced around in the huge ballroom. 

A tall man came forward, bowing slightly, to take my cloak, and lead me towards the centre of the throng. I glanced sideways at his face, seeing yellowish skin and glowing deep brown cow’s eyes, which met my gaze, and caused me to instantly look away. I accepted a heavy goblet from his hand, the liquid contents deep red and heavy with the smell of cinnamon and cloves. I pretended to sip the wine, as I moved trancelike through the press of the crowd. Eventually the strange looking people around me moved aside, and I was ceremoniously presented to a couple, man and woman, who I presumed to be the hosts of the evening. Both had coal black eyes, and red lips stark against their white skin. I could not hear the words they spoke, as despite avoiding drinking the wine I had begun to feel light headed and ill. The unholy creatures crowded around; snickering and pointing towards me. The feeling of suffocation took over my awareness; there was a peculiar smell emanating from all of them, a combination of dark smoky incense, spices, and underlying it all the choking sickly smell of blood.

I wanted to get out, to be back in the damp fresh air, but my arm was in the claw-like grip of a wrinkled crone, her breath foul as she croaked unintelligibly into my face. What made me shudder more than anything else was the sight of her almost toothless mouth, where two large and yellowed canine fangs still remained. My whirling thoughts were descending into chaos, as my heart was beating loud enough to drum in my ears. Suddenly, a frightening stillness took over; the music suddenly halted, and the black figures became quiet, all turning to look behind me. The silence settled like a fallen angel. My heart was beating madly; cold sweat dripping down under my clothes, all my remaining senses frantically urging me to escape this place.

Without warning, I was taken firmly by the waist, and pulled into a tight hold, a tall dark man holding me so close, poised to dance. I slowly looked up from beneath my eyelashes, expecting to see yet another of the twisted monsters, but gazed openly, stupidly, as the face looking down at me had the pure features of an angel. I knew this face, in fact I knew this man. I was weak, but I had to urge my legs to move, as the music recommenced, and for some unclear reason we were bound to dance. I recognised the music as “Once upon a Dream”, and I giggled quietly and hysterically as my body moved in a slow, seductive tango with this unknown but so familiar, incredibly handsome creature. As we swayed, he leaned over me, and I saw his hooded eyes, dark blue and passionate, eyes I could lose myself in. I was stretched back in his arms for the finale, my neck very close to his lips. With total horror in my soul, I felt his teeth. His razor sharp incisors grazed my skin, making me shiver in terror and ecstasy.

I jumped out of my skin, literally, my dreaming spirit leaving this place and hurtling back to the right body and time. As I wakened, I felt a soothing hand stroke my hair, and the solid body of Zack close beside me.  
“Shit, honey, you were dreaming, and howling fit to be tied…..are you ok now?”

I pushed myself up so I could see his face.

“Zak…….show me your teeth….”


	5. THANK YOU KINDLY MA'AM

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, they get down and dirty.  
> May be a bit full on for those of an innocent nature.

MACEY

Zak, dressed in his boxers and vest, had rushed across and found me, howling like a banshee, as the dream subsided. He held onto me, his hair mussed, and sporting a pair of dark framed glasses instead of the contacts he usually wore. Eventually I calmed down and pulled myself together, mentally telling myself that I would never again, under any circumstances, use the medicine man’s pain relief.  
He was smiling at me, and I chuckled into his shoulder, reluctant to share the dream, when there were more urgent matters to stir up. I was sweaty and totally dishevelled from the nightmare, but I had awoken with, yet again, an urgent desire to fulfil. I pulled sideways on Zak’s arm to move him further into the bed; his lips were pulled wide into a smirk, which together with his half closed eyes, were really arousing. 

“Hey, honey, how about I thank you properly for rescuing Gracie?” His voice was low and seductive, tickling my ear, giving me goosebumps……

I did a quick turn out of the bed, then leaned back over him to push his wide shoulders onto the mattress. The strength of him made me want to straddle his hips without delay, but I chose to tease him slightly.  
“I’ll only be two minutes,” I smiled wickedly into his eyes, “and when I get back I want you naked and horny…” That worked, as he breathed out audibly, growling deep in his throat.  
I made use of the bathroom in record time, using the toilet, pulling off the bandage on my leg, and gargling on a seriously minty mouthwash simultaneously. I didn’t even try to shower, I thought it was time that me and my lover get down and dirty. I didn’t think it was a problem to show how much I needed him, both in my life and in my body. If he found me too full on, I’d rather know sooner than later.

On my return I spotted his underwear in a neat pile next to the bed. He was lying straight out, with the sheet pulled over the expanse of legs, torso and broad chest, up as far as his glasses. I could tell by his eyes he was smiling. I had no plan of what I would do, I had a sneaking suspicion that the women he bedded were a little more polished than I, and I hoped he wouldn’t be spooked. I might be out of practice, but I am not shy.

Leaving all thoughts aside, I wriggled under the sheet by his feet, and let the full length of my body slowly move over him, carefully coming to a stop under his chin, where I could kiss his neck, and let my hands smooth over the muscles of his chest and shoulders. Immediately his face appeared under the sheet, his hands letting go of the fabric, running over my back to cup the cheeks of my arse. He was hard already, I could feel the noticeable erection pushing into my belly. I opened my legs, as if to let him in, but instead pushed forward, so I had his mouth under mine. I enjoyed the sensation of controlling the kiss, small licks around his mouth, gentle pressure, then as soon as he relaxed, I could sweep my tongue inside, rewarded by the sensation of his sucking, the eroticism intensified by his restraint. I knew his cock was ready, but I wanted to play…..after several long, sensual and intense kisses, I looked into his eyes, now dark with passion. His glasses were nowhere to be seen, leaving him somehow vulnerable, which turned me on even more.

“You ok?” my voice was a little hoarse with accumulated lust.

“Mmm…more than ok, more like needing to fuck you so bad…….”

I smiled, and he smiled back, his teeth white and mercifully fang free.

I began my slow shuffle back over his body, taking the sheet with me…I wanted to see his reaction, his every thought plain on his face as I came to a stop crouched over his thighs. His lips were pushed forward anticipating my next move, and he cooperated willingly as I moved his knees so I could take my place between his long muscled legs. I wanted to feel him, rubbing my cheek along the silky smooth skin covering his arousal. He was already oozing juice for me; I caught the musky scent of male sexual energy. Looking up, his eyes met mine, I could tell by their slightly out of focus blur that he was enjoying this. But his gaze intensified, when my hand, which had been stroking and teasing, placed him so I could softly lick the tip of his cock, before swirling around and around, pulling him in deeper towards my throat. His body tensed, and his legs closed around me, but he did nothing to prevent me using a combination of hand, lips and tongue, to bring him ever closer to the edge. I could hear his breathing, shallow and fast, and his hands were tangled in my hair, not pulling me, but really wanting to, as I gave him a truly erotic blow job. Eventually, without any resistance, I was able to spread his legs wider, and scoot down to lick his balls. He was muttering my name, in between clutching the mattress and almost whimpering in his enjoyment. I knew he wouldn’t hold out if I didn’t stop, so with a last long lick, I left off my play and returned to lie in the crook of his arm. 

He turned to face me, small traces of sweat beaded his upper lip, which I had to lick off, before I kissed him again.   
“Macey, how in Holy Fuck do you do that? I was so near to blowing off the back of your head, you crazy sex demon” he laughed,…..one eyebrow rose as he said ”I’m going to do the same to you now….”  
I giggled at his animation, and felt his mouth find its way down past my collar bones, taking his time, with gentle nibbles and licks, until his mouth surged over my nipple, sucking softly, then more powerfully, until I was squirming in his arms. As soon as I could stand it no more, he continued down my body. He must have tasted his jizz on my belly, the sticky pre-cum where he had rubbed himself earlier, but he never hesitated. I was on my back, and his long fingers traced down over my pussy, to part and tickle over my inner thigh, provoking my clit with every teasing stroke. I could feel my face burning, as his tongue, tender but powerful, washed over my clit, making my heart beat high in my chest, and my inner muscles tighten around his finger, the whole area turning liquid and heavy with the overwhelming sensations.

I choked out his name, as the incredible ripples in my cunt built to screaming point, my fingers digging into his shoulders, and I came like the thickening of a bowl of heavy cream, as his arm wrapped around my thighs, and his finger impaled me, whilst he swirled his tongue over my swollen clit, despite me wriggling like a landed eel.   
He looked up towards me, a rather proud smile on his face, as he shucked back up the bed, his lips showing the evidence of my enjoyment. I pulled on a corner of the sheet, and mopped away the stickiness, kissing him again on his swollen lips in the process. I knew he was still aroused, and I wanted him inside me. My legs seemed to find their own way around his hips, as we both moved together. He slipped inside me with ease, our combined juice providing far more lube than ever we needed.  
His strokes were slow and controlled to begin with, tipping his pubic bone to bounce lightly off my clit, staring into my eyes, whilst easing my body back up to the critical point. Soon, very soon, the sensations intensified, passion deepening between us in an increasingly, shockingly erotic experience. I was lost in his eyes, his body, my core gripped him tightly, and I heard his moans in my ear, softly but rising, growling as his rhythm increased, and I felt the heavy pulsing of his cock which precisely matched the deep melting spasms of my own.


	6. IRRITATION AND ENLIGHTENMENT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zak is pulled deeper into spiritual enlightenment, despite being wary.

Zak paced the space around the kitchen and into the hallway, alternating between worry, anger and frustration. The woman had been gone almost twelve hours, leaving after breakfast with the intention of sorting out her belongings at the hacienda in the desert, going on to visit friends to either see or pick up her cat, he wasn’t sure which. He had not taken a lot of notice, expecting her to be back in a couple of hours, wondering, with the accompanying tingle in his groin, if then they would return to the comfortable seclusion of her bed.

His long fingers flipped open the phone’s cover, checking again for a message. The reality was finally sinking in that she had neither texted or called. He slapped his hand hard on the kitchen worktop realising that the only person he knew who had her number was Nick. And Nick was, at this very moment at Zephyrs, enjoying his GAC leaving party, and, even more irritatingly, where Zak should also be.

He fumed inwardly, trying to persuade himself to go off alone to Nick’s party, and leave a note for Macey, if she ever returned, and a key hidden somewhere outside for her. He didn’t want to do that, but he owed it to Nick to be there. His teeth found a rough part on his thumb, and he distractedly pulled at it, until it hurt enough to make him stop.

He was just about to reach for his keys, when the door chimes sounded, making him jump in the unaccustomed quiet of the house. It was her, bedraggled and somehow small looking, outside in the rain. He pulled her in and hugged her close, despite feeling the dampness of her clothes. She had her face buried against his shoulder, and he picked up straight away that she was upset. He held her quietly, all the anger forgotten, as he felt the energy of tiny tremors move through her body, and absorb into his. At a loss, he took her to sit on the settee, and he pulled her up against him, arms wrapped over her shoulders, waiting for her to speak.

Eventually, softly and slowly, she explained to Zak that she had visited the home of her friends, only to find that the wonderful life force of Angelique had moved on to the spirit world. Sheriho and Hajima had found her that morning, cold and lifeless, but with no feeling of suffering around her. Consequently, just the three of them had held a traditional ceremony for the cat, and then Sheriho had drummed, whilst Macey had journeyed to say goodbye to Angel, and to receive any messages or instructions from the Spirit World.  
Of course, any mention of the Spirit World made Zak sit up and take notice, eagerly awaiting anything Macey would tell him. But, disappointingly, she again fell into silence, immobile in Zak’s arms for what seemed a very long time. Finally Zak broke the silence, softly asking if she needed some food.

“No thanks Zak, I need to get today out of my system. Where were you going, all dressed up?” A smile accompanied her question, although her eyes remained dark, the small triangular mark in her left eye appearing black in the soft lighting of Zak’s lounge.

“Well, funny you should ask….remember Nick? He’s the one who sort of introduced us in the first place..” Zak hesitated, thinking how long ago it all seemed. “Well, he’s leaving the crew, so it’s his farewell party…just a few drinks, food, maybe a bit of dancing….”

Macey looked up into his eyes, a small smile illuminating her face.

“Dancing..mmm…..just what I need”

……  
An hour later the tall couple walked into the bar and restaurant called Zephyrs. To anyone caring to look they were an interesting pair. Zak was in his customary black; a well cut shirt and not too baggy trousers looking striking on his tall lean frame. Macey wore a pair of very expensive, leather trousers, which were now soft and well worn, clinging to her curves like honey on a spoon. Her loose black silk shirt patterned with spider webs gave her an air of mystery, enhanced by the silver hooped earrings, emphasising her cheek bones, as did her hair pulled up into a high mahogany swirl on top of her head.

Zack walked across to his crew’s usual table, the noise and laughter noticeable from a few yards away. Aaron was the first to spot their approach, whooping and jumping up to greet them. If he was puzzled by Macey’s presence, he did nothing to show it, clowning in his habitual fashion until Nick moved around the table and swung his arm around the bald guy’s neck, pulling tight as if to strangle him. 

“Aaron, if you’ll just shut the fuck up for a mo, this is Macey. You remember when Zak had all that trouble with that cursed jar that you picked up…” he emphasised the last three words by jabbing Aaron in the ribs. Aaron responded by pulling a downcast face, and squirming free from his captor. Suddenly becoming serious he shook hands with the woman, smiling and curious like a small boy eyeing the cookie jar. Zak, who missed nothing, took Macey’s arm gently, and introduced her to the rest of the company. She smiled as she shook hands with the mixed bunch sitting around the table. Nick’s wife was there, blonde, very pretty and noticeably pregnant, and Billy, a charming quiet guy, who seemed out of place in the rowdy party. Nick ordered another round, and smiled as both Zak and Macey asked the waitress for bottled water. 

It seemed that most of the group had already eaten. Macey, despite her calm demenour, was still inwardly shaken by the events of the day, and certainly couldn’t face ribs or fries. Zak, on the other hand, was starving, the relief that he had again got Macey within touching distance melting his anxiety away. The muffled music coming from the other side of the room had a heavy hypnotic beat, and drew Macey irresistibly. Nick, who also loved to dance, noticed her fidgeting in time to the beat, so, after gaining his wife’s smiling consent, he suggested they go and dance. Zak, deep into his food, was hardly in a position to complain, so they crossed the floor, and through the almost soundproof glass doors into the wall of sound. 

It was like being hit by a truck. The music was loud and had an electronic trance beat which seemed to forever be on the verge of a crescendo, only to power down, repeating the pattern again and again. The guy in the booth knew his job, and the blend of different artists and sounds served to constantly reinforce the pulsing rhythm. Macey was in her element. Despite knowing the beat was different to real drumming, it pulsed through her with the same effect, pulling her into movement, where her body twisted and rolled, gradually clearing away the effects of the journey she had made earlier in the day. She should have been tired, but the dance gradually generated its own energy within her, rendering her totally oblivious of her surroundings. Nick had soon reached his tolerance, despite the coolness of the air-con he was just too hot to dance more, and waved weakly at Macey as he left the space. It was not too crowded, just few couples, and more singles, some eyeing curiously the tall woman dancing alone.

Zak was engrossed in a conversation with one of the producers, and didn’t notice as Aaron slipped away from the table, headed towards the dancefloor. The same wall of music hit his eardrums as he entered, looking around in the coloured lighting for the chick who came in with Zak. She was still dancing, the rhythm swaying her lithe body in a dance style all of her own, standing out slightly as the others around her were all dressed in expensive looking clothes, their eye catching colours emphasised by the light show. As Aaron approached, he noticed Macey had taken off her boots, and was bare footed. He smiled at her, his body, usually engrossed in goofing around, picking up the beat, and dancing well and effortlessly, whilst careful not to step on her toes. He tried to dance with her, but she was totally lost in the music, seemingly ignoring his efforts. As the lights strobed around, once in a while he caught a glimpse of her eyes, almost like pale white orbs, lost and out of focus. The man who had seen more weird stuff than many others found this unsettling, there was something spooky about the way she looked; she evidently was completely unaware of him, pulling his best moves right in front of her. Aaron smiled to himself, acknowledging that this weird woman was maybe just made for Zak. Almost the second that thought struck him, he felt his arm being pulled. Expecting, or hoping, it was one of the other girl dancers, he turned, his teeth gleaming in a broad smile, only to find Zak looming next to him, not smiling, in fact scowling directly at him, which was not a comfortable sight. Aaron knew enough to back off; there was no way he was going to get in Zak’s bad books, even for a woman like Macey. Holding his hands up, Aaron moved away, leaving Zak to figure out his next move.

The main problem for Zack was that he didn’t dance. He clowned around, but found dancing to be an excruciatingly embarrassing experience, so he usually stayed put, and if the girl he was with wanted to be with him, she also stayed put. Not so Macey. Zak took in her bare feet, and closed eyes with a sigh. He moved in front of her and just swayed his weight from one foot to the other in an attempt to blend into the surroundings. It was getting late; unbelievably Macey had been on her feet for almost two hours, and the music was slowing in preparation for winding up the evening. Zak recognised the wonderful mix; William Orbit’s Barbers Adagio sinuously took over the room, finally bringing the woman out of her trance. Seeing Zak, she smiled, and moved to him, wrapping her arms over his, and using her body to sway his own. He was totally surprised when, seemingly without effort, his body moved in the directions she chose, and he relaxed into the beautiful sound of the strings, coming to appreciate that movement could be so enthralling, especially when held tightly by a woman. Macey was giving off heat like a furnace, but rather than putting him off, he took in her energy; her body gliding like molten metal against his own. He felt as if his senses had heightened, noticing her perfume, smokey and precious, and the silk of her blouse, damp and clinging sensuously to her body. He was amazed that by the time the music stopped, he had lost himself completely.

Some time later, they were again curled together, her body wrapped comfortably around his, and her head resting against his neck, just under his jawline. It was clear that they were both used to being awake until the early hours, and despite the long day, neither one of them wanted to sleep. For the present time, their almost unquenchable need for each other had been satisfied, leaving them both mellow and peaceful. It was Zak who broke the silence.

“What happened today, when you went on your journey? You’ve hardly said a word about it, is everything ok?” He twisted out from under her, so he could see her face. Macey didn’t want to talk, but she knew that in all honesty she would have to come clean sooner or later. Squirming slightly to back away from his intense stare, she leaned her chin on her hand, her elbow bent and her body still pressed against his own.

“It’s hard to say – there was a lot about Angelique, where she was going, and how important it is that there are light workers in the world to, well, to fight the darkness. I guess even angels need allies in the never ending struggle.” Her mouth hitched up in a rueful smile, almost able to see the cogs shifting in Zak’s ever curious mind.

“Your cat was, or rather, is, an Angel!?” his voice rose quizzically, as his dark brows pulled together. She stroked his arm, a soothing gesture, whilst appreciating the effort that had made the muscles caressed by her fingers.

“Yes, to all intents and purposes. The Buddhists call them Ascended Masters. Maybe you’ve come across Kuan Yin, she’s the Chinese goddess of compassion, or maybe Avalokiteshvara, a Buddhist deity who has roughly the same purpose….that is to save all sentient beings from the power of evil. To carry on tirelessly doing this work, even when you have a strong spiritual faith, can be draining, ultimately leading to burn out and becoming lost. Angelique is a most unusual energy, a very old energy, maybe as old as the origins of time….” Zak was staring at her, his brows now raised in a sceptical expression. She punched his arm lightly, “She saved your life, anyway, Bagens.”

“What? How so?” Zak was giving this his full attention, despite the distraction of Macey, naked in his arms.

“When that creature took your spirit, literally pulled you out of your body, it left a shell behind, empty for almost twelve hours. I had called up a circle to protect you from any marauding entities, but it was Angel who kept you alive. She literally laid over your heart so you didn’t die.” Zak looked suitably chastised. “Angel was only with me a very short time – you saw her, her physical problems were no obstacle to her; she always drew a crowd wherever she was, people loved her. That’s the stuff that makes the world change, not the do-fuck-all do gooders, and certainly not cruelty and unkindness in any form. The Bodhisattvas teach us compassion.” Her voice was passionate, her eyes stormy and fathomless. Zak breathed deeply, for the first time truly realising that this strange otherworldliness surrounding Macey was in fact, the real deal.

“So what did she want with you?” His dark head tilted slightly, intent on seeing her expression. She still hadn’t told all of it, and he knew it.

“Well, it’s kind of weird.” She pursed her lips, looking into his eyes, with an almost shy expression.

“Come on Macey, I’m waiting………”

“She wants me to help you

“Help me? Do what?”

She stopped, and looked away from his intense stare, finding it difficult to continue.

“What?” He was becoming inpatient, there was something niggling away in his mind, and although he hadn’t worked out why, he was feeling a little manipulated by where the conversation was leading.

“I’m supposed to help you chase demons.” The response finally came, in a flat toneless voice.

“What!!” Zak’s voice seemed to squeak, as his incredulity came roaring in. “You. What on Earth would chasing Demons do for you? – You are a Healer, for fuck’s sake, I’ve seen and experienced what you can do. Demons don’t need fucking healing, they need to be sent back to the hell they came from.” He had jumped out of bed, and was pulling on his sweat pants, clearly too agitated to lie still any longer.

“That’s just the point. They don’t need to be sent to hell. They need to be released, and moved away from the darkness.” Macey fell silent, witnessing Zak’s startled reactions she realised that talking any further would be wasted breath.

Later, when Zak had calmed down sufficiently to crawl back into bed, Macey was breathing slowly, deeply asleep. It was growing light outside before he finally slept, his thoughts whirling like smoke in the wind.


	7. WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT DO YOU WANT?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zak finds out first hand how Macey deals with a spirit

The next morning things were slightly tense, so the two of them, by unspoken agreement, chose to remain apart. Macey knew that the Ghost Hunter would need some time to think about the scenario she had proposed, so she occupied herself searching the local property websites for a place to live. That is until Zak, back from his work out, came up and looked over her shoulder, accidentally on purpose.

He sat down heavily on the dining chair beside her, taking both her hands and shuffling his feet, clearly uncomfortable. But he managed to get the words out, despite knowing that he hadn’t thought this through at all.  
“Macey, sweetheart, I don’t know why you’re looking at places to live, I can only think you’re wanting to move out. But please, I know it’s like a whirlwind, but could you wait…? Stay here with me, just until we sort out how things will pan out……I really really don’t want you to go…..”

A small smile haunted Macey’s lips, as she turned to face him, seeing his downcast look, and more tellingly, feeling his palms turn clammy, as the significance of his words registered in his brain. She turned sideways on her own chair, sliding her arms around his waist, and he automatically moved in closer.

“Zak, I need some space, I have work to do, not least of which is helping you with all the spiritual stuff you nee…..want to learn about.” She corrected herself, but not before he’d picked up what she was going to say. But he chose to ignore that and continued;

“What are you looking for? Just tell me….”

“Well, somewhere private, quiet, hopefully large enough to drum and make a circle, keep my stuff….nothing fancy, just safe and clean” She kept a tight hold on him, knowing that he didn’t altogether buy into the type of help she was offering, but having an implacable certainty that this was destiny, as foretold by Angelique. Her mouth, pressed against his shoulder, twisted up into a hidden smile, as she thought how Zak would react if she told him that his karma was presided over by a cat, and a dead one at that.

“So, I’ve got the perfect space…” he was grinning, his white teeth dominating his smile. 

“Yes……where…?” Macey pushed back and stared into his sea blue eyes, not really getting his drift.

“Here of course, in my dungeon, it’s clean, safe, big enough…perfect in fact…what d’ya say sweetie?”

Macey pulled back to look him hard in the eyes, like she was about to tell off a small boy for being silly.  
“If you think a place full vampire stuff, dark energy, a human skull and a ghost and a demon would make an ideal place for a shaman to work, then think again.”

“Whoa, whoa!” Zak did the classic soundtrack the GAC used for demonic activity. “A ghost and a demon! How do you know where they are? I’ve not noticed them for days……” he trailed off, engrossed in the thought of what had happened to cause them to make themselves scarce. “I didn’t know you’d been in the dungeon anyway…”

He was puzzled both by Macey, and by the disappearance of the spirits who usually shared his house.  
“I haven’t been in the dungeon, but I know about it. I watched some episodes of your show to get an idea of what you’d been doing to pick up Ysatisia. You and the others sit down there like troglodytes by candlelight.” Zak frowned at her, but she ignored him. “And I know about the spirits because they came to me almost the moment I walked in.”

“So why aren’t they tormenting you, they usually make everyone’s life hell, especially girls. Why are they hiding out?” He leaned back in his chair and stared at Macey.

“Because they’re scared. They don’t know what to expect from me, so they are keeping out of the way until I go. They won’t take kindly to me pitching up in ‘their’ room, if we leave them there”

“Mmmm……” Zak considered what she had said, then looked to her and smiled, the troglodyte comment forgotten. “We could have an exorcism. That would shift them”

Macey grimaced, and took Zak’s hand. “The church is very fond of exorcism, and I daresay you, as a believer, think it’s all right and dandy to cast out spirits whenever they cause a problem. But, in actual fact, all that happens is that the problem is just moved on. You take a demon out from one spot, and it finds somewhere else to be. No, they have to be given help to overcome what made them demonic in the first place. A demon is like an angry child, they have lost their way, and the more they are left in the dark, the worse it gets for them………..”

Zak scowled. “So what are you suggesting? These guys’ve been around a long time, since Bobby Mackeys as far as I remember. They get upset if I bring anyone home, present company excepted, and they torment me in bed, waking me up, giving me nightmares…that sort of thing….”

Macey dug a finger in his ribs, “I’ll torment you in bed…..” she laughed. “Come on, let’s go and find these guys, see if we can help them move on.”

………

 

The door to the dungeon was dark and solid. Zak had gone to a lot of trouble to build up the atmosphere of the place, enjoying the isolation from the rest of the world. He had his collection of books and spooky artifacts here, as well as a really top notch sound system. Macey stood, blocking his path, looking stern. “You don’t need a spirit box, or a camera, so just leave them outside will you?” she insisted, in a slightly teacher-like voice. Not happy, but willing to give her a chance, Zak put down the usual tools of his trade, and pouted behind her back.

“I’ll go in first, see if they’ll talk to me. Don’t say or do anything to provoke them, and no fucking taunting” she emphasised the instructions by shaking her finger at him in a comical way. Zak grinned cheekily at her, then opened the door and stood back. The room was very quiet, the atmosphere heavy and dense. She moved inside, slowly, and motioned Zak to follow. Her drum was held in front of them, almost like a shield, but it didn’t help either of them when something heavy came flying past, aimed at Zak’s head.

“What the fuck?” he blurted out, angrily, but Macey turned and glared at him, shushing him. Zak didn’t like this at all, but he decided to let her have her way, it would all come down to the same thing in the end, he thought; one or both of them would get scratched, followed by some really enjoyable nightmares. He’d had people in before, mediums, witches, blah blah blah….nothing ever seemed to work, it just stirred them up even more. Boy, he couldn’t wait. He leaned against the door, mouth downturned and arms crossed, silently awaiting developments.

Macey moved forward, the room was gloomy, but sufficient light came through the shaded windows for her to make out the shapes of the furniture. The room was bigger than Macey expected, with one wall taken up by electronic stuff, along with glass showcases and bookshelves, where Zak’s collection was displayed. A line of skulls topped the bookshelf, crowned by a very large colourful picture of Vlad Tepech. Macey looked away from this, somehow, despite knowing the history, (Zak had told her all about this fascinating ruler), she didn’t like the way it made her feel.

Instead she concentrated on finding the spirits in the room. Her voice was soft, but commanding, as she asked them to come and speak to her. Zak kept back, giving her space. He felt his arms prickle as Macey very softly sounded a slow beat on her drum. Although having the hairs on his arms standing up was a phenomenon he had often experienced, he had never heard the sound of Macey’s drum before. As he stood, watching her standing in the centre of the room, he could clearly visualise a pulsing sky blue aura surrounding her, rippling out in time with the slow drum beats. He became very still, conscious of his body, his heart beating, and he knowingly relaxed, the way Macey had taught him, using his breath to bring his mind into stillness.

Macey was still coaxing someone to come forward, and although Zak had seen traces of the female ghost before, hiding around corners, mainly lurking in his bathroom or hovering around his bed, he had no clue of what she looked like, her name, or anything much about her. Only that she had arrived after Bobby Mackies. But something was happening. He could see a shape, like a shadow, but more substantial, coming forward to hesitate just behind one of the chairs. 

The drum beats were so slow and quiet, they sounded like Macey’s heart beats.

“Would you tell us your name? Please tell me your name.”

Nothing.

“You must be here for a reason…….please tell me, I know you are unhappy…”  
Zak concentrated hard, his eyes accustomed to peering into darkness. He could see the shadow was taking on more definition, and the room was definitely colder.

“Tell me your name, unquiet spirit, and what you need from here”

The drum was still slow and hypnotic, but Zak became aware of a slight change in the sound, as if the harmonics were becoming more pronounced, despite it being so quiet and slow.

They waited…….it seemed like a long time…..the shape was still motionless, but becoming more clear was the shape of a dress, long, with what seemed to be a ruffle along the hem. Macey inhaled, almost a whisper…..

“I’ll wait.”

Seconds passed

“I’m still here for you, unquiet woman.”

Then, as Zak was almost ready to quit, a small whisper came through the thick and frigid air.

“I’m Johanna”

Zak took a breath, forgetting himself, ready to whoop, but, Macey’s flashing silver eyes stopped him in mid breath.  
She looked back, towards the spirit.

“Johanna…..why are you here Johanna….what brought you here to this house……? I will help you, Johanna, but you need to trust me…”

The drum was becoming a little louder, introducing an air of tension which was not there before.

“I need ….holding…….sad……..love…….cry….cry……cry”

“Johanna……who holds you here…….who comforts you?” Macy turned to face Zak as she said the words, witnessing the look on his   
face.

“No-one…..no-one…..Johanna ……loved by no-one…………”

“I can help you find peace Johanna…….there is love for you, much love, love to give you everything you need. I can help you to reach there if you let go……”

“Want Zak.” Johanna was evidently digging her ghostly heels in. Zak moved slightly, not sure how to react, but again Macey’s wide eyes halted him. 

“Johanna, there is no love here for you…..you have waited, haven’t you, but he can’t give you love. The only way is to move on, to the eternal place, where you will find peace.” The drum was quicker now. Johanna wailed, heartbroken and sad.

But, to Zak’s amazement, he could now see her clearly, dressed in an old fashioned dancing girl’s outfit, her long dark hair curled over her shoulders. And she was moving forward, into the space between the furniture, at the centre of which stood Macey. Zak started to feel the reverberations of the drum in his chest, as Macey quickened the beat, and began circling the spirit. He could hear her voice, calling out, gently but full of purpose, first in words he understood, then in some weird sounding language. Both Macey and the spirit seemed to be partly transparent, and Zak felt moments of dread as he watched the process, holding onto the solid door, not knowing if the vortex he saw and felt was real or imaginary.

Then, all was quiet. The drum stopped, and the room ceased to whirl. Macey looked solid again, and Zak couldn’t wait to prove it by hugging her to him, and giggling like a teenager.

“Macey, that was awesome….fucking awesome…..” She leaned into him, far more drained by the process than Zak knew, as they made their way back out of the dungeon. Zak stood back so she could leave first, and was rewarded by a book flying through the air, hitting him squarely between the shoulder blades.

“Ouch!!! That hurt!!!”

“It’s ok”, she whispered quietly, “he knows he’s going to be lonely. We’ll sort him out tomorrow.”

Zak couldn’t hold back. Before swinging the door firmly closed, he called over his shoulder out into the empty air behind him.

“Mother Fucker!” 

All was quiet.


	8. THOUGHTS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Macey soaks while Zak thinks

Zak wrapped his arm around her, as she seemed to be having trouble standing up. “What’s wrong, sweetie?” he asked, concerned now things had quietened down, and he had finally noticed her face, white to the lips, her body unsteady. “Perhaps you need to lie down for a while”, he muttered, swinging her up ready to carry her. He felt her breath in his ear, her voice small and underpowered. 

“No funny business mister…..” and a giggle like a hiccough.

He took her to her room, and placed her softly on the covers, surprised by how light she seemed. He realised that she must have experienced a massive energy drain, making her sick and dizzy, and noticeably lighter.   
“I’ll get you some water,” he smoothed back her hair, but before he could pull back, she clutched at his shirt collar, and told him what she needed.

Ten minutes later, Zak had filled the bath with hot water, and, following Macey’s instructions, pulled together some of the items contained in her old suitcase. Now the pair of them were sitting in the bathroom, Macey leaning like a rag doll, watching Zak as he concentrated on his task. He crushed down the rosemary spikes into the water, surprised by the pungent fresh odour filled the steamy bathroom, and then shook out exactly three drops of the oil marked ‘spykenard’ from an old and yellowed bottle. Again, the strange scent mingled with the rosemary, giving the impression of just chopped wood, intense clean fresh energy, and something ageless, like stones, in a temple or castle built in the Holy Land, the rock impregnated with the smell of the sea. Finally a generous handful of sea salt was stirred into the bath sized cauldron.

Like a small child, Macey held her arms up for him to take her clothes; he lifted her easily and placed her carefully in the warm fragrant brew. She drifted, the steam carrying the vapours into her lungs, as with her eyes closed, Macey lay half floating in the heady mix. Zak watched her, satisfied he could see the pulse in her neck trembling slightly. He could also feel the effects of the strange ingredients in the bath water, clearing his lungs and focussing his mind. His own lockdown hangovers usually cleared up after a few days, the nausea and headache gradually fading, aided by plenty of water and as much sleep as possible, but he realised that the mix he had just put together would work much quicker and more effectively.

He sat, stretching out his long legs, to lean against the bath where he could keep a watchful eye on the woman, concentrating on his breathing, mentally reviewing the last few days. Despite all the actual events being crazy and over the top, he was not satisfied that these were all coincidental. The Hunter was always searching for clues; that was how he went about putting together the evidence for his programme. OK, there were times when the most tenuous links were taken as plausible, but mostly, well, mostly there was a reason for everything. So, he relaxed back, the steam and the herbs working away, and he thought over the underlying factors which seemed to have the most impact. 

Starting with Macey. Firstly she had rescued him from the clutches of a monster. He remembered little about it, but some of the memories were very intimate and unsettling, giving him the feeling that Macey knew him far better than he would like to admit. He wasn’t looking for a woman or a lover; a friend or even a fellow ghost hunter, but, out of the blue, a million trillion to one, there she was. And he hated to admit it, even to himself, but she was all those things. She had him from the get go, catching him off guard, then making him think the hot sex they shared was just a delicious dream before she disappeared.  
And then, she came back, and proved that it wasn’t a dream, and made him understand that sex wasn’t a currency, or a power struggle. She was open and honest, didn’t play mind games with him. He sighed softly, surprising himself as he recognised just how much he was opening up to her.

Not only that, but she rescued Gracie. Left to him, he shuddered to think of how that would have ended. He nearly lost it out there on the cliffs, but she stayed calm and helped him through. He recognised from that day alone, he would trust her with his life.  
Then there were all the other things happening to him; Macey had got something out of him he would have sworn was truly impossible. She had him moving on a dancefloor, actually enjoying himself. He was becoming more, well more spiritual. He pondered over the reason for this, but then he remembered that earlier, when she was rounding up the spirit of Johanna, she was actually creating, or linking, with the power of the universe. He had seen it. She had held his own spirit within hers, all the way back from Ysatisia’s lair, and delivered it back into his own body, so maybe some of her spiritual power had rubbed off. 

His hand rubbed across the bristles of his chin, as, lost in thought, other of the Macey related circumstances popped into his head. How his skin tingled when she touched him. The more intimate the spot, the more he tingled. He smiled, despite himself.   
He needed to sort out if these developments were anything to do with the future as told by Angelique the cat/angel. Zak remained cynical. 

Was Macey really expecting that she could come along on their lockdowns, and banish the spirits off to some kind of heaven? This great Cool Cat in the sky might be planning on all this, but he, Zak, should have a major say in it, it was his Ghost Adventures when all said and done. He knew Aaron would not hesitate, the bald guy had a major league crush on Macey, so he would hardly object to seeing more of her. The show might be a little thin without Nick, but, they would just have to fill up the content with Billy.   
He hit on it, the choice seemed to be staring him in the face. Billy or Macey? The smallish roundish baby faced techie, who was so polite and endearing to the spirits. Or was it Macey, the tall, good looking, powerful, bossy, kick ass shaman, who could fuck them off without a second thought. Zak realised that he was getting carried away with himself, the stuff in Macey’s bath potion sending his brain into a tail spin. He was spared any further introspection when a large splash of water landed on his face, and dripped down his shirt.

“Hey, Zachary, I think I’m done now….”

She was smiling up at him, her hair dark and slicked back, and judging by the sparkle in her eyes, her energy levels back to normal. “What were you pondering about just then? I could swear I smelled the wires burning…..?” Macey teased him gently, a process which, although Zak didn’t always like it, he privately acknowledged was helping to deflate his over generous ego. Wiping his face on the towel, he held it out as she stood, water trailing down over her soft curves, ready to leave the bath. She scooped up her small pile of clothes, and, planting a very generous kiss on Zak’s mouth, pointed in the direction of the kitchen. “Coffee, please, I still need caffeine…..” He exhaled in frustration, and rolled his eyes at her, but meekly turned away, and went off down the stairs. She didn’t see the smirk on his lips as he thought of what they might do when the coffee was gone.


	9. PLANNING AND PLOTTING

The next day, Macey fully recovered, the pair lay intertwined in Zak’s bed, lazily waking for the second time that morning. 

“So…..we chasing Demon’s today?”

Zak nuzzled the skin of her neck, revelling in her morning skin smell, like having an exotic animal sprawled his arms.

“I’ve got a feeling he’s gone already…” Macey whispered, kissing his forehead, the spiked hair lying down for once. He pulled back, wide blue eyes soft and out of focus.

“What? How come? How d’ya know he’s gone?”

She shrugged slightly.  
“He’s moved somewhere else. He must not have liked the idea of being chucked out. The atmosphere feels different. Smoother somehow…..” She smiled as his palm ran along her back and over the roundness of her bottom. 

“Smooth….mmmmmm”

“Zak, stoppit…” she tried to push his shoulders back, but only succeeded in pulling him closer, the stiff bristles of his chin rubbing her jaw as he kissed her. She stopped struggling as the pull of his kiss took away her resistance, and she felt the melting warmth he kindled spreading up through her belly. He rolled her onto her back, pushing his erection into her hip, as his hand stroked around her soft pubic mound, his finger roughing up the dark strip in the midst of her otherwise smooth skin. He couldn’t get over his fascination for the softness of her skin here, and would never miss an opportunity to stroke and lick this most secret place.

The mounting sexual tension was shattered by the loud boom of the door chimes.

“Shit!” said Zak.

“Shit!” Macey echoed. “Ignore it….they’ll come back….?” 

“Nah…..it’ll be Aaron. He’ll knock down the door if I don’t answer.”

Zak pulled on clothes, and kissed Macey on the lips. “I’ll do some breakfast, if I feed him he’ll go take Gracie for a walk, then we can carry on……” He widened his eyes and grinned naughtily, then pushed on his glasses and fiddled quickly with his hair.

Later still, the smell of grilled bacon and toast pervaded the kitchen as Macey pushed open the door. The bald head of Aaron was bent over his plate, as he scooped up the last of his egg, and made “Mmm mm mmm” noises, showing his appreciation of Zak’s cooking. Zak had a half eaten bacon sandwich ignored on his plate; his voice boomed enthusiastically across the table. Noticing her entrance, Zak shut up. Aaron turned around, a wide smile across his face as soon as he saw who it was. Macey helped herself to coffee, and perched alongside Aaron, who immediately wiped his mouth and sat up straight on the stool.

“Well, guys, what are you planning today…..?” he enquired, an innocent smile on his face.

Macey thought quickly, wondering if she dared manoeuvre the headstrong Zak, but remembered Angeliques insistence that she work quickly to pass on as much of her knowledge in the time left to her. A deep breath and she spoke.  
“Zak has offered me space in his dungeon, and I was wondering if you would help to move some stuff around to make some room for me to do my work?”

Immediately Aaron looked across at Zak, his bushy brows raised questioningly. Zak, puzzled and a little irritated, turned to the coffee pot, feeling yet again manipulated by events moving fast. He had to acknowledge that he had made the offer of his space to Macey, but she hadn’t said she would take it, and the thoughts of moving his private stuff around didn’t exactly feel good. He swallowed his coffee, still turned away from the two pairs of eyes staring into his back.

It was Gracie, bounding around the kitchen to make a grumbling demand to be let out, who broke the tension in the air. With long strides, Zak moved around the table, towards the back door, pulling Macey off her perch and along with him to stand on the deck outside. She could sense his irritation as he closed the door behind them, leaving Aaron alone in the kitchen.

“What the fuck? You kinda sprung that on me, moving my stuff about without a by your leave or nothing!” his black brows were drawn down, lips pressed together in an irritated scowl. He had also crossed his arms, facing away from the woman at his side, really feeling a deep discontent for the first time since they met. Macey was quiet, giving him time to think. She moved quietly to sit on the stones around the pool, letting the gentle gurgle of the water calm the air between them. He stalked over, still frowning, to stand behind her.

“Zak, I know things are moving fast, but that’s how it is. In a few weeks I have to go home, and I’ve no idea how that will work out, so I need to make sure I give you everything you need while I still can.” Her voice was low and quiet, but he heard the determination in every word. He also heard that she was planning to leave, and that hit him like a hard punch in the gut.

“What? You’re leaving? When……….? Where……….?”

He dropped down to crouch at her side, his face full of shock and disbelief. She couldn’t leave him. Not now. He stared into her eyes, and she saw how hurt he was. She opened her mouth to try to explain, but he just didn’t want to listen, rising quickly to his feet and moving back to the door. 

“I’m going out!” His words were curt, as he disappeared back into the kitchen. Macey stayed still, her knees pulled up to her chin, her silver eyes staring unseeing into the water.


	10. ZAK’S WEIRD EXPERIENCE

Zak gunned the Bentley, pushing the speed beyond the limit of safety and common sense. He used speed like a drug, one to distract him from the burn of pain and frustration. He tried to keep his ‘habit’ under control, but Macey had really pushed some buttons best left alone, and he was taking all the anger and irritation out on the road. Strange, he loved speed, but the only time he drove like this was when he was angry. The miles flew by, and he knew he would have to stop and face the problem, thinking it through properly, and not acting like a child whose best toy had broken.

Pulling up sharply on a deserted stretch of road where the cliffs dipped down to the ocean, he locked the car and set off down a twisting pathway leading to a rocky inlet. He didn’t recognise this part of the coast, but it seemed as good as anywhere, the rocks lending shelter from the ever present gusts of wind. He walked for a while, trying to think of nothing, focussing on how the force behind the flat stones he threw made them skip along the top of the water, bouncing on the surface before disappearing into the deep green depths.

After a while he stopped, seeing a ledge in the rocks, and sat, his back resting comfortably, staring out into the rolling surf, letting the roar of the waves draw out the sting of his hurt feelings. He had offered to let Macey use his space, so he should get over it. He wanted to find out more about what she did, so what better way than this? He shook his head, mentally berating himself for being an idiot. But then, she had said she was leaving, or more accurately, going home. That did make him flinch, but he rationalised, what was to stop him going with her, if she’d have him? He had no idea where Macey’s home was, but surely they had hot food and hair gel.  
His thoughts came to a stop when he noticed a rangy white dog trotting nonchalantly down the beach, heading in his direction. As it drew near, it became clear that the dog was a long way from puppyhood, and had seen better days, his white fur matted and dull, and his hip bones prominent. He sat, about an arm’s length in front of Zak, and yawned widely, showing his curled pink tongue and yellowish teeth.

Zak sat still, his liking of dogs tempered by his knowledge that some dogs were best left alone. The dog stared straight at him, one eye brown and one eye green, an odd combination Zak had never seen before.

“Howdy Zak, I thought it best to catch up with you now, before you do any damage to y’rself or that dandy motor.”

Zak froze, his eyes growing round in disbelief. The dog had spoken to him. Without moving his mouth, the freaking dog had spoken. He even knew his name. Zak felt the confusion rushing through his body, making his palms damp, and unsettling his gut.  
“Don’t you go getting all flustered there, young fellah, just listen while I tell you something very important. My name’s Kendall, by the way, pleased to meet you”

Zak stared at the animal, no doubt in his mind that this was real, hell, he could even smell the unwashed odour of his fur, and hear the tiny scratching sounds his overlong claws made on the stones. The voice he heard was a pleasant, deep southern drawl, and to Zak, perfectly in keeping with the way the dog looked.

“You need to calm down, dude, be grateful you have found her, especially when the Spirit Seer is willing to teach you stuff you could never learn in a million years on your own. Of course, if she is summoned, she has to respond. She’s part of a shamanic tradition stretching back hundreds of years, she can’t just toss that off, even if she wanted to”

“Would she…does she want to?” Zak spoke out loud to the dog, suspending disbelief in the hopes of getting answers.  
“It’s out of her control. She has to follow her path. If you can share it, even for a short time, make the most of it, young man, like by helping her, and not running out on her when you get uptight. She’ll give you the answers, and you need to listen and use your common sense.”

Zak smiled briefly, the incongruity of a talking dog discussing common sense tickling his sense of humour. The dog shook himself, a spray of fine sand finding its way onto Zak’s arm. “Well, I’ll be seeing you soon Zak. Now, go back to Machitey, and try to behave like an adult.”

With that, the dog moved stiffly and picked his way over the stones, back to the sandy part of the beach. He took a careful pee on some nearby driftwood, and trotted away without a backward glance.  
Zak stood, stretching his arms high. “Well, fuck me sideways,” he whispered to himself, “a fucking talking dog.” He half jogged back up the rocky slope, anxious to get back to his car, to his house, and to Macey. 

Travelling almost as fast on his return as on his journey out, Zak soon reached his home. Quickly parking the Bentley, he ran inside, bursting to tell Macey about his experience. He found her outside, swimming in the small pool, Gracie making sharp yips of encouragement from the side. He crouched at the edge of the pool, as she swam near, her hair flat against her head. Her arms folded under her chin as she reached the side, looking up at him with an inscrutable look, waiting for him to speak. 

“I’m sorry Macey, I’ve been an ass. I should never have gone off like that. I acted like a jerk, you just knocked the wind out of me when you said you were leaving, that’s all. I don’t want you to leave…..” his voice trailed off into silence as he realised that the needy little kid was whining again. She was still looking straight at him, her pale grey eyes fixed on his deep blue, the intensity of her gaze making his insides flutter. Suddenly her arm came out of the water, her hand reaching up for him to pull her out. He smiled, relieved that she was at least going to communicate with him. The smile turned to a yell, when she took him off balance, and pulled him face first into the pool. His watch, clothes, shoes, everything was soaked. He came back up, spluttering, trying to make a grab for her as she pushed quickly away, the water splashing up into his face from her wake.

Zak was not happy; soaking his clothes and possibly wrecking an expensive watch not being his idea of fun. Kendall’s words came back to him, as he pulled himself to cling to the tiled steps, something about acting like an adult. Macey was swimming around in the centre of the pool, ignoring him. He pulled off his shirt, and the shoes which were now heavy and waterlogged, and slung them over the side, where Gracie was gleefully barking out her excitement. He swung back, and kicked off, intent on getting his own back.  
He reached the centre of the pool, paddling with his hands to keep his body afloat, Macey looking at him sheepishly, a small smile lifting the corners of her mouth. “Are we OK now?” she enquired, reaching out to put her hands on his shoulders. He smiled back at her, her touch warm and reassuring.

But mischief wasn’t over, as the competitive edge he could never loose reared its devil horns, and he slid his hand over her shoulders, and down to grab a handful of her pants, intent on throwing her up in the air. He pulled, and heard her giggle, followed by a water muffled ripping sound, as her pants tore away in his fist, leaving her totally naked. He started laughing, and took a mouthful of water as Macey kicked off towards the pool steps.

Aaron, forgotten and quiet in the living room, was startled to hear the slapping of bare feet on the kitchen floor. He looked up and through the open door, and smiled broadly on seeing a naked woman, closely pursued by a soaking Zak, both running full pelt up the staircase.


	11. PROGRESS

Macey  
Finally, the showering and joking, completed by something quick and dirty, was finished. We both came back into the kitchen, to find Aaron in the midst of fixing lunch. Zak, his face still warm from our tussle, blushed even more at the unexpected presence but tried to hide it by turning away, stuffing his wet clothes into the washing machine. I helped dish out the stew Aaron had made, and cut large chunks of bread. It was only when we were settled and eating, Zak suddenly remembered something, evidently important, from his excited outburst.

“Hey, guys, guys, guess what I saw this morning?”

Aaron and I, both mid mouthful, looked at him with raised eyebrows.

“I met up with a talking dog!!”

Aaron choked, and I promptly thumped him on the back, whilst I took a little time to answer.

“Mmm…a talking dog. What did he have to say to you?”

I could tell he was quite excited about this encounter, but I wanted to discuss it when Aaron was out of earshot. Not that I wanted to keep it secret, I wanted Zak to understand what had happened to him first.  
“Oh, just some advice,” Zak downplayed that bit. “He said he’ll see me again….AND…he even told me your full name, Machitey, which I didn’t know…so how could he do that…….?”

“Machitey Akatingwah Inaluk-Shea, to be precise.” I casually spoke out loud my full name, hoping to divert the topic of conversation.  
Both Zak and Aaron stared at me silently, as I calmly carried on picking the meat out of my stew.  
Aaron was first to ask, in his usual blunt fashion;

“So, where are you from, originally? That’s a bit of a mouthful, no wonder they call you Macey.” Zak chewed his food impatiently, I knew he wanted to talk more about the dog, but he was curious about the answer to Aaron’s question.  
“I’m Greenlandic. But I was taken to Ireland when I was eleven, by my aunt, and didn’t go back until I was sixteen. I have Innuit ancestors, and was brought up to be a healer in their Shamanic tradition.” I fell silent, hoping this would completely distract Aaron from any dog related questions. I think Zak must have picked up, in his very intuitive way, that I preferred him to keep quiet about the dog, and lunch came to an end with an in depth discussion of how to kill and cook a rabbit, something which, of the three of us, neither man had actually done.

Zak had gotten over his bout of possessiveness, and willingly went off with Aaron to box up some of the more macabre items in his collection, and take down the large colour picture of Vlad, which for some unknown reason, I did not like one bit.  
I left them to it, knowing when their work was finished, they would both go out for the rest of the day. I borrowed Zak’s jeep, and made a trip into town to trawl the thrift shops in search of clothing, as most of my clothes were either too worn to wear, or unsuitable for the climate. As I rummaged the rails, I felt a growing sense of urgency; Zak’s first meeting with his spirit guide had already taken place. I knew I didn’t have long to teach Zak, before things started happening. That thought filled me with a cold sense of dread, and I fought hard to keep my feelings in check. There was so much I had never experienced, and the possibility of having my life snatched away just when I was happier than I’d ever been, seemed to be cruel beyond belief. I pushed down the sob threatening to erupt, and attempted to find wearable clothes, relying on the power of shopping to ward off my fears.

Unexpectedly, misplaced in a pile of denim jeans, I pulled out just the sort of thing which I thought Zak would like. Normally there was no way on Earth I’d wear this, I’d just feel silly, but I was determined to make the most of our time together. I guessed the Great Spirit was in agreement when I found the outfit fitted me perfectly.  
…………..  
Zak

Macey was home when I came in, I could hear the sounds of the vacuum cleaner coming from my den - I couldn’t very well call it a dungeon any more. I thought better of disturbing her, she might get me to do something, so I just flopped on the settee, pulling Gracie’s silky ears ‘til she climbed up by my side, and I flicked through the TV channels. I was pretty tired, and needed to nap for a while. The TV droned to its self, and I dropped into that pleasant warm numbness of sleep. 

Strangely, I found myself walking along a stone strewed path, with Gracie on one side of me, and the dog called Kendall on the other. He pulled ahead, but kept looking back at me, his green eye holding a mournful expression. I followed, until we came to a hole in the rock face sprawled over the end of the path.

Gracie moved away, and sat quietly on the grass, waiting for me to go ahead.  
Kendall carried on, and I saw that the opening in the rock was big enough for me to get inside, so I went in, despite it being gloomy and damp, curious to see where the dog was leading me.  
Kendall looked back again.

“it’s allright young fellah, just follow me, you’ll be OK.”

I wanted to see where I was going, but the ground sloped downhill, stones and sticks littered the floor, whilst roots pushed down from overhead. I could feel a light breeze blow cool against my face, and, distantly, some sort of deep sound vibrated in the air. I wasn’t uneasy, I was curious. I kept going, what seemed like miles, and began wondering when this path would end. Kendall was still in front of me, a dirty white blur, glancing back every so often.

It went on for ages, I was ready for turning back, when, out of nowhere, I was outside. It was dark, there were trees, and a circle of people up ahead. Men, sitting around a blazing fire. Kendall had crouched behind a tangle of scrub, and I followed his example. I watched, silently. There was a huge tall man in the centre of the circle, beating a drum. I was uneasy now, hiding. Kendall had crouched down as small as he could get, his nose into his paws, skinny haunches sticking through his fur.  
The big man seemed to shuffle around in the circle between the fire and the group of people around it. The drum he was beating was deep and very loud, with a fast, disturbing rhythm. As I watched, fascinated, he seemed to change shape, from a big guy with broad shoulders, to some kind of large red eyed animal. I rubbed my eyes and looked again.  
The tempo of the beats changed, and before I knew what was happening I was running crazily, back through the tunnel, Kendall panting in front of me. 

As I woke with a jump, I gripped Gracie tightly, till she grumbled in protest.   
Seriously, that was weird.


	12. JOURNEY TO THE CENTRE OF THE CIRCLE. (WHO SAYS THE GREAT RITE’S OLD FASHIONED?)

Macey  
I knew that Zak had something going on in his dark head; he was mostly quiet, as we finished the simple meal I had made, of salad, eggs and bread. I avoid eating meat, but I knew Zak would eat just about anything he deemed to be ‘healthy’. Eventually, I made us both a hot drink, and we took them into the living room. I sat quietly, knowing that he would talk when good and ready.   
“Macey, what’s going on?” His eyes stared into mine, smoky blue and huge behind his black framed glasses. “First I get a dog who talks, then I get a weird dream about a tunnel, and a big fucker drumming round a bonfire. I know it’s part of your stuff, but I need you to just, please explain…….I feel like I’m stepping into crazy here, and I don’t like it…..”  
Automatically, I held both his hands, he was clearly having a hard time, and things had moved way faster than they normally would, so it was no surprise he was freaked out by it.

“Zak, I’m not doing this to you, it’s happening because somehow you have been chosen for it. The thing with the dog, he’s what’s called your spirit guide. Everyone who works on journeying, eventually meets up with one. They can be animals, birds, human forms, even some guys get one in alien form, although that’s not traditional,” I smiled. “They help you find the answers that you need. Presumably, the dog didn’t just ask to chase sticks, he told you something which helped you?”

Zak opened his mouth, then changed his mind, and carried on listening, his long fingers wrapped around my hands.  
“This animal will always be there for you, and, once you get to know him, and the way he communicates, you’ll find you really appreciate the stuff he shows you. Plus, he’ll always be around to help you in the sticky situations you get yourself into…” I smiled again, hoping that I had covered what he needed without sounding crazy. “The dream you had, well, I can only surmise that this is somehow a message. Going down through a tunnel is one of the ways we journey to the lower world. I was expecting to teach you this, but it seems that the Great Spirit got there first.”

He moved his head slightly, as if allowing these ideas to settle. Whetting his lips, he asked me a question I didn’t expect.  
“What is, or what do you think, is this ‘Great Spirit’ you talk about. Is it God, or what? I know there are all sorts of religions and beliefs, but I’d like to know how you think of it.”

I shuffled slightly, collecting my thoughts before answering.  
“’Great Spirit’ is what I know as all the energy in the whole of everything. It contains within it the gods and goddesses of all religions, and is truly all powerful. But even though the energy of the universe is wholly focussed on the movement to the light, to love, honesty, beauty and truth, every particle in the universe has within it, the potential to turn away from this, and to take up a darker path.”  
“You mean like ‘free will’?” queried Zak, rubbing the stubble on his chin, deep in thought.  
“There are times when free will can be manipulated by other, more powerful wills, but, in essence, yes. The ancient Shamen connected with the power, used originally to help their tribes survive, by guiding them to food, water, shelter. As indeed have all kinds of medicine men, priests, witches, voodoo and the likes. But there are others who seek to use this power for their own ends. These are the ones we need to guard against”

I stopped, as I realised my little speech was taking me into territory I didn’t want to explore, not yet at least. I knew exactly who this ‘big fucker’ was that Zak had mentioned earlier, and the fact that he had already made himself known to Zak unsettled me.  
I turned my attention to Zak, his body leaning towards me, idly twirling one of the rings he wore, as he thought about what I had said.  
“So how will all this affect me? Why me anyway?” His voice was soft, but I could hear a sort of restrained tremble; he was naturally concerned, and I tried to make what I told him both reassuring and reasonable.

“I don’t know why you. There are all sorts of examples in history of extraordinary things happening to ordinary people, not that you are ordinary….” I smiled into his eyes, and his own crinkled as he smiled back to me. “There may be a link to what you do, your Ghost Hunting is a fundamental connection to a different dimension. It could be that when you were pulled into the spirit world, Isis noticed and took an interest in you. It could be as simple as your connection with me….”  
My eyes searched out the small silver talisman, hanging by the fine leather strand around his neck. I knew that this, the tangible evidence of our connection, was part of Great Spirit, and I prayed silently that it would allow us both to remain together, despite the coming troubles.

“Anyway, it’ll all become clearer as we go on……come on…..let me show you what I’ve been doing all day” I stood, and pulled on his hand, slipping my arm around his waist to lead him down the stairs, and through the heavy wooden door, to what had, until today, been his dungeon.

Zak  
She hadn’t changed it all that much, a bit emptier, much more space in the middle from where the chairs had been taken out. It had a brightness it didn’t normally have, a faint smell of herbs, and four tall candles placed square opposite each other at the edges of a plain, circular rug I had never seen before. I stopped, and took off my shoes, leaving them at the door, next to Macey’s worn leather sandals. All the sound equipment was unmoved, much to my relief, as I didn’t fancy the hours of rewiring it would take to re assemble it all if it had been shifted.

Macey stood close, I could see the dark mark in her eye, and with her hand on my neck, she kissed me lightly; the lingering touch of her slightly parted lips focussing my attention like nothing else could. Before I could pull her body closer, she had dropped her hand to mine, and moved me to the centre of the rug. I noticed there were various objects in the middle of it, and I sat next to them, cross legged, made comfortable by a large cushion Macey had provided.

“Think of these as ‘trigger objects’” she spoke softly and passed me, one by one, the individual items. I sat, trying to concentrate wholly on these things, my fingers moving over a smooth white shell; I had a clear vision of the powerful water breaking on the sand, where I imagined the shell had originally been washed up from the ocean floor. Then a feather, brown and white, the tiny flights aligned and perfect, from a creature of the air. A bed of crystal, fitting the palm of my hand, the pointed amethyst spikes born in the dark of the earth. And finally, a lighted candle, seated in a protective glass holder, the hot flame tiny and flickering as I moved it in my hand.

Macey reverently took these objects from me, and systematically placed one of them at the foot of each of the candles, moving clockwise around the circle. She spoke to the four elements, and I got chills as I envisaged the full power of each one guarding the circle. I sat and concentrated on how I felt; the change of atmosphere, the prickle of the short hair on the back of my head, the gradual knowledge that the circle she created was protection. I willed myself to see the energy, but, although I could make out Macey’s blue aura, rippling around her, I couldn’t see anything marking her slow and stately progress around the candles.  
When she came and sat opposite me, she smiled broadly, showing her even white teeth, then quickly she reached out, unexpectedly grasping my ankles, pulled me by the feet towards her, off my cushion, to lie flat on the rug. The circle was plenty big enough for us both to lie flat out. Coming closer to me, she propped herself up on her elbows, holding her hair out of the way, as she gazed steadily into my eyes. I didn’t expect this; I thought the circle was a hallowed space, something sacred, like a church, and yet her intense expression, softened by the candle light, was giving me thoughts of a much more licentious nature. She was looking into my face, like I had never seen her do before, as if memorising every contour and feature she saw. 

When she did kiss me, it was soft and warm, and almost as if she was tasting my skin, gradually covering my face and neck with kisses, unbuttoning my shirt, and covering my chest with the soft but burning press of her lips, slowly, one inch at a time. The effect stoked up a raging fire in me, her slow restrained touches becoming almost painful in the intensity they created. She undressed, quickly sliding out of her clothes, totally confident naked, and then helped me as I shucked off my jeans, and the rest of my clothes.  
Macey took the clothes, and piled them tidily, still within the circle. Even this short delay was affecting me, as I watched how the candlelight fell on her creamy skin, and the curve of her back and bottom so near to my waiting hand. 

My cock felt heavy, weighed down with the desire to bury myself in her, feel the skin around her opening swollen and sticky as I pushed inside. I lay back on the rug, watching her, my hand automatically curled around my erection, the need for her aching and throbbing in my belly.  
She smiled when she saw what I was doing, kneeling beside me and taking both my wrists to push my arms above my head.   
“This is what we’ll do…..” Her voice, like a low growl in the dark, loaded with passion and promise, seduced me, and my eyes closed tight, as I felt both vulnerable and completely aroused. I didn’t care what she was going to do to me, I only wanted her to do it now, as rough as she liked, or as gentle; either way I knew I was hers to do with anything she desired. That thought made me shiver. She noticed my goose-bumps, and chuckled, blowing a cool breath over my stomach, then my cock, which was twitching uncontrollably.  
I knew she must take me soon, or I would be compelled to break free from her grip on my wrists, and turn her over. I was burning hot, and her body now moved tantalisingly over mine, her legs parted so I could absorb her damp heat, which she stroked along my chest and stomach. She teased me slightly, allowing me to push inside, only for her to move, so frustratingly, a hairs breadth out of reach.   
My voice rasped in my throat;

“For goodness sake’s Macey, will you please fuck me??”

“Goodness has nothing to do with it”….she chuckled darkly, and let me in about an inch further. I collected myself, ready to arch my back and force into her, but, sensing my intent, she knelt up and caged her limbs over me, taking her pussy out of reach of my straining dick. I couldn’t take being teased, it was like she had lit the touchpaper to something completely beyond my control.  
“Macey, I’ll come all over you….. I won’t be able to stop myself…”

She took my lips in a kiss, her tongue pushing deep in my mouth, back and forth in the same rhythm that she used whilst settling her hips down and re-enveloping my cock. This was probably the most erotic sensation I had ever felt in my life. I could tell by the tightness and the heated slickness of her that she was on the edge; I couldn’t have held back even if I wanted to. We both cried out, into each other’s mouth, there was no part of either of our minds or bodies which had not been rocked by this cataclysmic craziness we made together. She laid her head on my chest, panting for breath, whilst I gazed open mouthed into space, stroking her back over and over, as my heart recovered.

……………  
The Great Rite performed in the circle had a magical effect, as indeed was intended. The ripples of power surrounding the two lovers sent a clear message out into the forever-ness of time and space, strengthening the bonds between their human souls, where the interaction with each other danced at the edge of consciousness, like the double helix of DNA.


	13. MORE EXPLANATIONS

Three am.

Macey opened her eyes, hearing deep regular breathing from somewhere close by on the bed.  
Immediately, her thoughts went back to the circle, now dampened down, but remaining charged with power for future use. Zak had needed sleep and she was only too willing to curl up with him, and take the opportunity be at peace, dozing whilst he slept. But now she was fully awake, her mind whirling. He would soon be asking for an explanation of why she had told him she was leaving, and she couldn’t divert him any longer. Sighing quietly, she slid out of the large bed, smiling as she noticed Zak’s long body laying almost diagonally across the mattress. Pulling on her nightshirt, she left the room, her bare feet making no sound.

Sitting in the dim light of the kitchen, a cup of herbal tea clasped in her hands, she let her mind wander back over the well worn memories. Twenty years ago, when she was sixteen years old, she had left her home, weak and broken, her baby stillborn. She pictured a young man, in his late twenties, strong, tall, powerful in mind and body, on the cusp of his destiny, carrying the drum of the great Shaman of the Tribes. He could have been a saviour but he had been cruel, his actions so long ago had been utterly evil. She shivered, remembering the past.

Her thoughts twisted back to the command to return, this powerful pull on her psyche which had begun almost a month ago, in Mexico, on the night of the dark moon. She had recognised the source, and tried hard to put it out of her mind, but it would not relent. Eventually she returned to Zak, as if somehow the tall black haired Ghost Hunter could offer refuge, but the Dark Shaman from her own land would not be ignored. 

Macey padded down the stairs, and opened the door to the circle. She needed some answers.

She turned on the sound system, and set to play a recording she had already made of her drumming, the sound coming through indistinguishable from the real thing, allowing her to journey deeply and alone.  
She entered the circle, and called the corners once again, pulling together the power already standing primed and ready. She didn’t want any intrusions into her most private connections. The drum was pulling her already as she finished the protective measures, and lied in the centre, the air still warm from the lovemaking she had shared earlier. She pushed her tender thoughts of Zak away, and followed the path she knew, to the dark land of the spirits. 

The fire glowed brightly, the old man already seated, calmly pulling on a pipe of very smelly tobacco.

Macey approached; she had obviously been expected, as there was a stool covered with animal skin ready for her to sit, and respectfully await Ground Dancing Wolf to speak. The shells and beads tinkled pleasantly as he put aside his pipe, and leaned forward to meet her eyes. His eyes were also silver, but almost lost in the folds of his skin, a product of years of being outdoors in blinding sun and snow. Macey felt his sadness, and her heart sank.

“Machitey, I was expecting you.”

His voice gruff, the rasp emphasised by the Greenlandic language. “You have been called ….” The old man looked down into the fire, concentrating hard. “There is very little time left now. If you choose to ignore him he will come to you.” his eyes flashed briefly, piercing her with his gaze, “He is still, even now, very dangerous.”

He sat back, peering into the fire, as if looking back over times long gone.  
Macey, clasping her deerskin sleeves around her boots, also looked down into the flickering flames of the fire pit.  
The old guide sighed softly, and looked across fondly at Macey, she had grown so beautiful….it was obvious that the silly Raven made her happy; she deserved to be happy. He reached to relight the pipe. Eventually, clearing his throat, he spoke again.  
“Machitey, the Dark Shaman did many bad things, we both know that. Because of that his own power is waning, and he calls in the darkness for help. Sadly this has attracted something else, something which should stay away from the land and the living….something which will cause untold damage if allowed to walk the earth.”

Her eyes widened, and she felt intense cold striking her back, despite the comfort of her warm clothing.  
“Yes, I’m listening, Dancing Wolf”  
“This thing recognises the waning life force of the Shaman, but has power enough to live alongside that, in his body, creating a terrible havoc. Your beloved Raven has already crossed this Demon’s path, but in ignorance. You are in the process of making him ready to fight it again.”

“No, no that’s not it at all, I don’t want him to fight any demons….” Macey’s voice rose, shocked at the suggestion that Zak should already be known to the Demon, and horrified at the thought of him being involved in a fight.

“Be calm, Machitey, what other purpose would there be to teaching him your skills? You may not have realised, but he is your ally, your partner and brother in arms in this, you cannot fight this demon alone, you need him!”

“No I do not” Macey spoke quietly after her earlier outburst, but she meant every word. “I will not risk him, even if I have to leave him, I will not allow him to be harmed”. No way. She was upset and rattled by what she had been told, but managed to calm herself sufficiently to thank Ground Dancing Wolf, and pull back, called by the drum to return. The final words she heard, faintly, on the breeze……”You have no choice……”

Macey came back to her ordinary senses, feeling weak and chilled to the bone. The knowledge that time was running out, and that she had no choice but to work with Zak to fight this Demon was uppermost in her mind. 

The first rays of the morning sun lit the deck, as Gracie bounded outside. Macey, still wearing her nightshirt, held yet another mug of herbal tea. Her mind had been working frantically to come up with how she would deal with the situation, and she had a few tentative plans in place. Firstly, she would have to tell him the truth. She would not allow him to gamble with his life without knowing the serious consequences. If he chose to back out, so much the better. He could go back to his Ghost Adventures with no harm done. It might break her heart, but rather that than he be taken by the Demon.

Her thoughts turned grim as she pondered on what the consequences may be of her own life being lost. Zak had never told her how he felt, but she knew that the bond they shared, forged by the Goddess of Love herself, had become strong and true, and that Zak would be hurt terribly if she were forced to leave him. Somehow she had to protect him from that.

Machitey determined that if there were any Demon fighting to be done, then it would have to be here, in Zak’s town, not the wild and challenging wastes of her home. She would claw out every advantage for them both to survive. If the Great Spirit believed that together they were strong enough to take on this challenge, then she had better prepare the tall dark haired Raven, who was at this very moment, yawning and stretching, and reaching out for his woman.


	14. DECISION

Zak turned, his hand searching over the mattress for the warm body he was growing used to, and grunted slightly when he established he was alone. His eyes flew open when a damp cold nose snuffled in his ear, and Gracie huffed impatiently. His hand rubbed over his face before he opened his eyes again, and risked sitting up.

“Gracie-puppy, what you doin’? what you doin’ baby girl?” He clucked at the dog, rubbing the short fur on her head between the long fingers of his hands. It was only then he became aware of Macey, a tray in her hands, pushing the dog sideways to get to the bed side table.  
“Now then, Gracie, let your daddy have his coffee…..” she smiled down at the dog, and Zak’s tousled hair, whilst not failing to appreciate his arms and upper torso not covered by the sheet. She sat on the edge of the bed and wriggled in between man and dog, both seeming happy for her to join them.

“Holy Cow, M. your feet are freezing….” Zak exclaimed, noticing she had been out of bed a while. “What have you been up to?” he smiled, a boyish grin showed his teeth, and Macey felt her heart contract as his soft blue eyes focussed on hers.

“Thinking” was her simple answer.

“Thinking…what about…?”

“Stuff that’s going to happen, whether we like it or not.”

He tilted his head, and frowned a little, his black brows closing in over his eyes.  
“What sort of stuff?” He sounded like the voice over from one of his programmes, a sort of inevitability acknowledged in his deep tone, an acceptance of an unknown terror waiting in the wings.

She reached over and handed him the coffee, “drink – before it goes cold.”  
After a few sips, he put down the mug, and looked back into her eyes.

“Well….what?”

As usual, much to Zak’s appreciation, Macey explained the situation clearly, without unnecessary fuss. Her eyes staring over his shoulder, were far away, as she related coldly how the shaman in her home village had claimed her, taken her virginity, made a baby with her, only to cause her to miscarry, almost killing her in the process. She had left, more dead than alive, determined to follow her own destiny. 

In the intervening years, the Shaman had become progressively more unhinged, allowing a demonic entity to take possession of him. Now he wanted it gone, before he lost all control. Remembering her power as a healer, Macey had been called as the exorcist of choice, but she had ignored him. Instead she had come back to Zak. Now it was entirely possible that the Shaman, bound together with the demonic spirit, would show up at any time, looking for her.

Zak swallowed the rest of the coffee, oblivious to the fact it was cold. Pushing his glasses into place, he turned back to Macey, his eyes now harder and serious behind the dark framed spectacles.

“So what you are telling me, basically, is that we have to fight a demon. We have to fight a demon for some old guy who messed with it in the first place, and now he’s stuck with it. Why? Why can’t we leave him to it…..it’s not your fault he’s got into trouble, and it sure as fuck ain’t mine. So why get involved??”His voice rose in pitch as he spoke, troubled by the situation. Gracie, sensing his agitation, whined softly, her gentle brown eyes rolling up to scan his face.

“He’s a shaman, and no matter how much he’s hurt me, or anyone else for that matter, he should be freed from the demon. It’s up to Great Spirit to sort out what happens to him from then on. But, more importantly, this demon he’s made a home for, is one that is particularly malign. Dancing Wolf is adamant that it must be stopped……” her voice was low but emphatic. “It’s my fight, not yours. You can walk away and no-one, most of all not me, will think any the worst of you.

Zak’s arm tightened around her shoulders, pulling her in to his chest. 

“No way...” he growled, “…..fuckin’ demon wants to mess with you, it goes through me first!”  
She was shaking slightly, as she recognised the enormity of his commitment, and pushed back to stare deep into his eyes.

She ran her hand down over his back, to caress the sensitive skin at the base of his spine.   
“Well, if you change your mind, and you might….just let me know.”

………………….

Zak called Aaron, to request he come around, to take care of Gracie, and then surprised himself with how much he choked up, telling his old friend that he may be away for some days. Aaron, knowing Zak well, pulled him in for a brief man-hug, and told him not to worry, everything would be taken care of. Gracie, obviously, plus any calls from the studio, any website crisis, just to go off with Macey and enjoy himself. Aaron knew how close the two had become. He was pleased for Zak; ever since they had first met he had witnessed Zak being a magnet to the ladies, but it always seemed to end badly. He smiled, Macey was not the sort of woman to mess anyone around, and would be good for Zak, even if she did wear weird second hand clothes and knew how to kill and cook a rabbit.

It was only when Zak left the kitchen to gather Gracie’s toys and other gear together, that Macey moved in close next to Aaron, and surprised him by gently taking his hand. She spoke quietly, and what she said chilled him to the core.

“Aaron, you are Zak’s best friend. I’m hoping, if I have to go away, you’ll look after him.” She shushed him, as his mouth opened in an ‘O’ of disbelief. “If the worst happens, I’ll do my level best to make it easy on him. I don’t want to go, Goddess knows, I love him, but it’s out of my hands.” Her voice was thick with tears, and Aaron’s head was filled with confused questions. How could a relationship which looked so good, turn off so quickly? “If anything happens, I’ll contact you. Now forget I ever said anything.”

When Zak came back to the kitchen, Aaron had his camera up, filming him as Gracie frisked around his legs. Zak did his usual goofy poses for the camera, then, strangely, stopped hamming, and pulled Macey into shot. She held up her hands to try to cover her face, but Zak, smiling broadly, took her wrists, and pulled her to his chest. Aaron blushed, as Zak kissed her passionately, on film, something he’d normally never be caught doing. The last few frames were of the woman’s delighted face, as she returned Zak’s adoring gaze.


	15. PREPARATION AND AN UNEXPECTED DEVELOPMENT

The next few days were spent in frantic preparation, as neither of them had any idea of when and where the trouble would start., Macey arranged for them to use the hacienda in the desert, where she recreated the sacred space, spending all hours with Zak, pouring knowledge into him as fast as he could absorb it.

Zak was totally enthralled, his thirst for knowledge of the spirit world taking on different angles and facets with every new session. He, as Macey suspected, was naturally adept, and found the journeying part of the process no problem. He did have his stubbornness and ego to overcome, but a few brushes with the powerful Angels of Light brought him in line. Forming a laser like intention and channelling power from Spirit through his consciousness proved to be a little more tricky, and Macey willingly stepped in to bolster his strength, until he found the way to utilise his own natural energy. 

He also had vivid dreams, often meeting with Kendall, the talking dog, who still caused Zak to widen his eyes in disbelief, and another, strange creature, who was white, bald, and had green eyes. Zak was quite humbled when he was in the presence of this entity, it seemed to him that it was at the same time queerly odd looking and familiar, and yet incredibly powerful.  
Five days later, even though Zak was fairly relaxed about the situation, it became obvious to him that Macey, in various subtle ways, was getting stressed. She burnt toast, snapped at him when he accidentally broke the circle, and wasn’t sleeping, despite his best efforts to pleasure her into a stupor. 

They had finished their meal, and were sitting, bodies close as usual, staring out into the desert.  
“He’s near now…tomorrow, evening at the latest…….he’s close.”  
Her voice was soft and husky, her shoulders quivered slightly under Zak’s heavily muscled arm.   
“Sod it Macey, lets get out of here….just for this evening….we need a bit of a break..I’m going stir crazy, and you’re as wired as hell…..we deserve to have some time together, even if it’s only a couple of hours….”

Her eyes, glowing in the last of the sunset, smiled up at him. 

“Yeah, I guess you might be right…..but just a couple of hours, and nowhere you might be recognised, last thing we need is to be followed back here by some of your fans, howling for your attention”

Exactly thirty minutes later Macey stepped out of the front door. Her hair hung loose in gentle waves, and she was wearing a dress Zak had never seen before. Not only a dress, but heels, and make up. She got in, and Zak twisted in the seat to stare at her in disbelief….the subtle differences in her appearance affecting him more than he would care to admit. Her wide grin broke the spell, and he pushed the accelerator hard, forcing them both back into the leather upholstery.

He took her to a small dim restaurant, a few miles away, where a simple table, candlelit and tucked away in a corner, awaited them. Macey sat, looking out over the starlit view of the desert, returning the gentle pressure of Zak’s thigh as he settled in his own chair. They chose food, had a bottle of iced mineral water chilling in a silver bucket, and stared into each others eyes. 

Zak had butterflies; big clumsy things whirling in the pit of his stomach; at the same time, he was excited. The fact that this beautiful creature was his Macey, who had shared his thoughts, taught him, held him, practically becoming part of him, made it even more incredible. He was certain. When she came back to him, ringing his doorbell, all damp and dusty, it was purely instinctive; to hold on to her, while he grew to know her inside and out. But now he knew. His hand shifted the small box in his pocket, and the butterflies dive bombed even harder.

Eventually, holding hands took preference over finishing the food, and the communication distilled down to a few words, small gestures and smiles, kisses and giggles, the eternal language of lovers. The waiter cleared the plates, and Zak felt his heart thump in realisation that he needed to speak, seriously.

Macey however, was slightly tipsy on the mood, the attention, and the way she felt about him. She persisted to giggle, despite him pulling his brows down in a serious look, and holding both her hands.  
He tried, but she made him laugh, and eventually, he just went for it.

“Macey, will you quit messing around…just for a minute, I got something I need to ask…”

She quietened, and looked into his eyes, the candlelight and the colour of her dress giving a lilac tinge to her normally silver orbs.

“Ok. What?”

She knew…she must do…she was teasing him….he squirmed, but was spared any further embarrassment by Macey’s slim hand curled around the back of his neck, drawing him towards her.

“I’m sorry…I’m so nervous….what is it you want to say….”

He took the box from his pocket, pulled it open, taking the small silver ring from its velvet depth.

He held her hand…she held her breath…..

“Macey, please, stay with me…marry me…..whatever happens….I want to be with you…always…”

His face had turned slightly pink, and Macey pulled him towards her, kissing his mouth with the certain promise of more to come.  
“Sweet darling Zak…..Always.”

She didn’t hesitate, held out her hand, he pushed the ring over her knuckle, and although it was a snug fit, it was on her third finger. He breathed out, like he had been waiting forever…smiled at her she smiled back….whatever happened, they would be together….Always…..


	16. WEIRD BATTLE

Macey had already made the preparations, swiftly and surely drawing out the energy to encircle their bodies with the mighty power of the elements. She turned to the tall dark man next to her, smudging reverently over and around him, then standing passive whilst he did the same for her, careful to cover her completely in the scented smoke, willing, with all his love, the intention to protect her against whatever came.

Their eyes met, neither dared speak. Now it was time.

The large room was quiet and still, just the drifting haze of smoke mingling with the candle light, the dim starlight from the open windows the only other illumination. The couple settled, head to head, each creating their own pathway, down into the spirit world.  
Zak could feel the ground under him shaking, a sensation like a small earthquake rattling his body. He stood, the tunnel small and dark around him, nothing to indicate the way forward. He soundlessly called to Kendall, his now familiar guide, and sure enough, the fuzzy white shape of the dog materialised, leading a way through the darkness. Zak followed, his boots still picking up the tremors in the ground, carefully stepping his way over the tangled roots strewn across the dirt floor. He emerged, into an early lockdown scene; what looked like the bars of many old and derelict cells lining the way forward, trailing off into the gloom. He could still see the small patch of lightness of the dog nearby.

Suddenly, one of the old doors clanged shut, the rusty bang throwing out shock waves in Zak’s head.

“OK, so that’s you making all that noise…..why not come out where I can see you…” Calling out, his firm deep voice echoing, he stood, chanelling the power of protection, the way he had been taught, his aura becoming solid, imitating the ancient suit of armour he imagined.

The air returned to stillness, but a threatening static charge crept stealthily over his shoulders, seeking entry, testing his guard. Without warning, a large metal object flew through the air, narrowly missing his head, had he not ducked to the side before he saw it. He sucked in a breath, this thing was not intending to play nice.

“Come on then…motherfucker….let’s see what you’ve got…. “ Taunting was not the best method, Macey didn’t encourage it..but he needed to see what he was up against….find out if he could really do this…

Then all hell broke loose, the rusty iron cells shaking and grinding, things flying through the air, creating a vortex that Zak could see in his mind’s eye, a few feet ahead of him, sucking him forward, pulling him as though he was tied to a rope. Hastily, he asked for protection, the elementals heeding his shouts, and damping down the furious spinning mass.

Zak knew he could not afford to be afraid, wherever Macey was, she needed him to hold firm. He took a breath, sucking air deep into his lungs, concentrating on what would happen next. The ground was shaking, again, more intensely than before….almost as if the whole place was coming down around him…again he visualised the protection of a steel tank, surrounding his body. The noise of the maelstrom of metal and masonry deafened him, he pulled his arms over his head and crouched, willing this to pass, not yet ready to concede that this was terrifying him.

Wiping the dust from his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt, he stood. Again the sounds had died…his eyes searched the darkness, relying on his ability to pick up, like radar, what was around him. There was something in the darkness, waiting, watching. He squared his shoulders, and took small steps, feeling his knees trembling, determined to find the monster lurking down in this pit from hell.  
As he got closer the air became thick, and breathing difficult. He visualised a respirator, pumping oxygen easily into his lungs, which helped, for a few minutes. But the thing was getting clever, recognising the defences he used, and before he knew it, the oxygen cut off, and he started to choke. He could hear Macey’s voice, clearly, chiming in his head, “Use the power of intention, come on Zack, you know you can do this……”

He bombarded the thing in front of him, hurling energy storms, lightening attacks, giant whirling claws, everything he had ever seen or imagined in the worst B movie plots he had ever watched. The Demon was letting up, incredibly crawling backwards up some kind of rough terrain, Zak closed in, cautious not to get too near, and yet determined not to let it escape. He could hear growling and spitting noises, as the incline ahead of him rose steeply, and his view of the demon was blocked by huge piles of rubble.

Going from treading the path, to hanging out in space, over the longest drop he had ever seen, took less than a second. Zak yelled frantically, as the experience blew his mind. He was hanging from a small ledge, his fingers cramping, as his feet dangled out over a deep canyon. It was the worst feeling in the world. Panic almost claimed him, he couldn’t deal with this. He came eye to eye with the monster, leering above him, and Zak knew he was being laughed at. Swallowing down his nausea, he knew the only way was to lose his hold, and create the next version of events himself. Probably the bravest thing he ever did was to let go of the ledge, but he did, and hurtled down, desperately fixing his endgame on the soft landing of a bouncy castle.

The bounce brought him out of his stupor, only it wasn’t just a bounce, and it wasn’t a castle at all. Trailing listlessly across a huge expanse of space, the object he was latched onto looked incredibly like a coiled piece of rope. He was coupled up to it by a curly power cable, and his body was floating, weightless, as he looked around amazed at all the beauty and immensity of the galaxy. He could breathe easily. His sunglasses cut down on the glare from the various suns hanging suspended in the billions of miles of empty space surrounding him. It was more than unreal, like seeing the whole of creation spread out in front of him; beautiful, majestic, awe-inspiring. And totally unbelievable.

Zak held out his hand just so he could see that this was really his body. The black cross on his index finger was so familiar. He felt a sharp pang of longing to be back, laying curled up tight with Macey, despite the most fabulous sight of the whole Universe being spread out around him. He tugged on the cable, bringing himself back closer to the object he was tethered to. As he came in nearer, he realised the object wasn’t small, it was enormous. Something twisted and dark, and it’s eyes were opening.

Zak’s guts tightened, despite the very relaxing process of floating weightless. Something bad was going to happen. In the distance, he could see what looked like the light waning, as if utter blackness was slowly but surely taking over the pure sweet light of the heavens. The creature had opened it’s eyes, which were now red and staring, straight at Zak.

“Well then, what’s it going to be, Bagans…..do you want to lose the light, or are you going to let me go?” The voice was like a mad swarm of bees, zzzing at him, rasping and nasty. He began to shake, as he realised the enormity of what the demon meant. Loosing the light was the end of everything, him, Macey, his friends….he couldn’t think beyond that, he just knew. 

“No Demon, you are not welcome here, you will surrender to the powers of …..”as Zak spoke the words, learned long ago in a circle in the desert, the thing he was tied to grew and expanded before his eyes, circling around him, and cutting out the blaze of the heavens from his vision. He felt himself whimper, knowing it must be now….

The blazing sword of the Archangel cut the binding and Zak floated free, just in time to see the dirty black energy implode on itself, the red eyes, teeth, claws, all turned inward to compress like a black hole in space. He couldn’t see anything as the blaze forced him to cover his eyes, which was just as well, as his consciousness spiralled down like a spent firework, but never for one moment did he release his focus on Macey.

 

Finally……the drumbeats were holding the shaman at bay. Zak finally got to see a huge man, crackling with a deep dark energy, steadily being contained within the circle. The towers of light surrounding Macey and the Dark Shaman, Zak recognised as pure beings sent from the Great Spirit. Despite his total weariness, he felt his heart fill with joy, and without conscious awareness said a prayer to the Universe, to God, and to Jesus, with thanks that he had survived to see this, and that Macey was safe.  
The bull like man was still roaring, but the demonic power which had held him for so long was steadily draining away. Zak had just enough strength to link with Macey, needing more than ever to feel her pure vibrations in his mind.  
He could see her, the bright flashes of power from the angels reflecting from her, as she moved out, through the energy barrier of the trap around the shaman, and hugged him. He felt how much she loved him. But the Evil power, dangerous even at the end, saw her with the Hunter, and snarled, his spirit leaping in one last surge, forcing his way through the space she had left when she exited the psychic cage. 

He smashed at Zak’s head, his blow partly diverted by Macey. She saw the tall Hunter stunned and unconscious, bleeding from a wound over his temple, on the ground at her feet. Before she could move a powerful hand closed around her throat, and Macey knew, without a doubt, that she was doomed. Zak was out cold. She made a choice. If it was wrong or right only time would make clear. She instantly reached down, her fingers touching his flesh for the last time, and pulled hard, snapping the slim leather cord of the Isis talisman. 

The Shaman was howling, grasping her tightly as they were both pulled back into the trap of white light, which spun and whirled around them. In a final crescendo of energy Machitey, gripped by the Dark Shaman, together with the last of the demonic power, were consumed by the light.

The space was silent and empty, save for one man, cold and unmoving on the ground. Zak opened his eyes slightly, the pain in his head making him want to black out again. He saw a small white figure, with a smooth bald head and oddly pointy ears, gliding towards him.

“It’s not your time, Zachary, you still have lots to accomplish. We thank you for your efforts. Be assured, all will be well, but now you must to return….”

Gently, the angel who was once a cat, took up the Hunter on the palm of his hand, waited a few seconds until he was certain all the necessary healing had taken place, then deposited him back into the circle.


	17. AFTERMATH

Aaron was asleep, happily dreaming of the cars he would buy, the camera he wanted……suddenly, the gaunt white figure of Macey popped into his mind so vividly it almost woke him up. She told him quickly what he needed to do, briefly showing him pictures;- of the road to the hacienda in the desert; of Zak, his friend, who needed help, and lastly herself, who sadly, could not return. Aaron did wake then, his brain buzzing, trying not to think about how Zak would react to Macey gone.

It was difficult to find, as the low building was well hidden, but Aaron eventually pulled up outside, slamming on the brakes and jumping out before the dust had settled. Despite finding the key, he entered the building feeling like a burglar, calling out for his fellow Ghost Hunter in the empty dwelling. He found Zak, and almost panicked, thinking the long body lying there was dead, but a quick investigation revealed a pulse, weak and thready, together with a huge black bruise on the side of Zak’s temple.

Despite the weight of Zak’s comatose body, Aaron managed to drag him to the jeep, wasting no time on anything else. The hospital nearby acted promptly, and soon had him hooked up to an intravenous drip; Aaron’s explanation of a silly car chase getting out of hand, and Zak skidding on the road seemingly acceptable to the busy staff. The doctor’s examination came up with no other injuries; slight dehydration, possible concussion, but worryingly, Zak remained in a coma.

Aaron, not sure what he needed to do first, went back into the desert, and moved Zak’s car away from the building, leaving it slanted at a bend in the road, the air bag inflated, and the on board security camera footage mysteriously full of static.

He jogged back to his own jeep, and headed off to Zak’s place, his knowledge of Zak’s dungeon helping him to replace the stuff back exactly the way it always was. He found a small cloth bag, up in the spare room, just as she had shown him, and hid it in his jeep, ready to dispose of it later. All the while, he worried. When Zak came round, he would expect Macey to be there. Aaron wasn’t the most romantic character in the world, but even he knew that Zak would be devastated. How was he going to explain what had happened, and why he had messed with Zak’s stuff. Aaron frowned darkly, he was seriously worried.

As it was, the coma lasted for three whole days, Zak’s chin sprouted a healthy crop of stubble, and Aaron was beside himself with the whole situation. He had even rung Nick, needing his old friend’s common sense, in the light of what Macey had requested, albeit in a dream. Nick’s parting words to Aaron reassured him;

“Look Dude, you just have to trust her. She rescued him before, remember….?”

Aaron had Gracie in the room when Zak finally opened his eyes, a look of puzzled disorientation in the cloudy blues. Gracie snuffled excitedly, as he let he dig her nose into the palm of his hand, whilst he stared up at Aaron, trying to get his mouth to form words.  
“Dude….what happened…..I don’t remember a thing………”

There were three months missing from Zak’s memory. The doctors said they may come back, they may not…either way the rest of his memory seemed intact, so he was advised to try to move on from it, and not to do any more silly stunt driving in his overpowered Bentley.

Eventually, Aaron and Zak worked it out that the last thing Zak could actually remember was the lockdown in the Luxor hotel. As they sat in the dungeon, planning the next locations, Aaron breathed a long sigh of relief, as Zak, seemingly back to his old self, fiddled with his beloved picture of Vlad, which was somehow not quite level.


	18. EPILOGUE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> IF YOU DON'T LIKE SAD STUFF.....STAY AWAY.....

Zak glanced at the beat up cardboard box, the sides had been taped up more than once with gaffer tape, and a large gaffer tape X adorned the side. Typical Aaron, he thought, and again felt the lump forming in his throat. 

“Best get this over with…” he muttered, half to himself, and half to the cross breed puppy fussing with his boot laces.

He stood, and limped over to the desk, his old hip injury very painful today. He glimpsed himself reflected in the huge screen, his hair flashed with silver, and his shoulders stooped slightly, not quite as broad as they once were. He pushed the mouse inpatiently, starting up the slide show he had created specially to remember Aaron. Aaron had always been his friend, seemingly understanding far more than Zak did himself, about Zak and his infamous mood swings, his frustration at not understanding why he faced some bleak periods of sorrow for no apparent reason. Hell, even at Zak’s wedding, Aaron had been the one to hide Zak’s uncontrollable tears after the first dance with his new bride, sheltering his friend from embarrassment, his warm brown eyes filled with sorrow.

Zak shuffled the contents of the box, removing an old and battered tin star, with the words “Brothel Inspector” stamped across the centre. He grinned, remembering those days, when they were all such tough guys, chasing ghosts and generally having a good time.   
The puppy was still attempting to chew his laces, and he wondered if his daughter had made the right choice giving him a dog. Thinking of her always made him feel better. Even if his marriage had just faded out after twelve years, his two children made up for the loneliness. His wife; he had loved her…..but there was always something missing. But he had his girl, tall blonde, clever and beautiful, and his son, smart and cheeky, with Zak’s blue eyes and dark hair, and they were both equally cherished.

Zak had come to the bottom of the dusty box, finally lifting out the dog eared magazine he wanted to look at. His fingers grazed something half hidden by the cardboard flaps of the base, an old CD, in a paper sleeve, put inside a clear plastic wallet. He recognised Aaron’s hand writing. 

“Zak and Macey, June 2015”

Zak felt his heart lurch, although he didn’t know why. Zak and Macey. Macey who?

His heart started racing as he registered that June ’15 was just about the time when he had lost three months of his life. He could never shake the conviction that something important had happened to him during that time, but Aaron could shed no light on it, and the memories never came back. He’s carried on despite that, concentrating on all the projects, the film making, the psychic work, all the many ways he had used his life to the best of his ability. Sometimes he may have been a little sad, but so what? He sat a bit straighter in the chair, thinking of the people he had helped, with his progress in investigating, and coming to understand the spirit world.

Moving back to the computer, he flicked open the CD player he kept for some of his old collections, and slid in the disc. He reached for the water bottle, ignoring the pins and needles in his arm, as the screen flickered to light, with a lop sided shot of his old dog, Gracie. Zak felt his eyes stinging, whether it was seeing Gracie or Aaron’s camera work, he wasn’t sure. But then, as the shot zoomed back, he saw himself, over 30 years ago, in his kitchen, smiling and goofing around for the camera. 

Zak was holding his breath, his chest aching, as he gazed in wonder at a woman, wearing a plain red skirt, and a peasant blouse, her hands over her face as she came into shot. He saw his younger self touch her, revealing her face; the wide smile and strong cheekbones, shining eyes complemented by a pair of silver hoop earrings. Zak’s thoughts spiralled – he had found those very earrings when he had refurbished the bathroom some years ago. He had kept them, somehow feeling they were special, despite having no knowledge of the woman who had worn them.

He watched himself kiss her, then, unbelievably, it all came back to him. Those lost three months. He wanted to stand up, the energy charge running through him was incredible, but he was glued to the chair, knowing he had to watch to the end. He felt as if his mind was unravelling, as the details of how much they had shared, and, incredibly, how much they had loved swirled in his head. He remembered asking her to marry him. His eyes blurred as the screen showed them both, crazy in love, smiling at each other like there would be no tomorrow.

Zak’s blue eyes closed, he could hear a loud pounding in his ears, and recognised the sound of her drum. He followed an old familiar path, bordered by shrubs and tall grass. Gracie came bounding towards him, and he petted her fondly. The drum beats drew him forward, and he hurried, somehow knowing this was urgent. 

She seemed to come out of nowhere, her dark hair long and flowing, and her eyes full of stars.

He felt her arms around him and finally knew what it was he had forgotten.

As she slipped the small silver talisman back over his head, the drumming stopped. 

He was home.

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> I have got a few chapters now, so let me know if anyone actually likes them!!! Cheersxx


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